Circle of Evil (4 page)

Sitting on a lounge chair, Nancy slipped off her sandals. She got up and walked to the edge of the pool. She was wearing a new yellow suit that showed off her long slender legs, and as she stretched her arms above her head, getting ready to dive, she could feel people's eyes on
her. She just hoped one pair of those eyes belonged to Mike.

Nancy dived cleanly into the water, surfaced, then began to swim the length of the pool. She was tempted to stay in a long time since it was so cool and refreshing, but after three laps she decided to get out and start her investigation.

Most of the poolside loungers who had watched Nancy dive in didn't pay much attention to her as she climbed out and smoothed her streaming hair back from her face. But glancing casually around, she saw that Mike was watching her.

Good, she thought, pulling a comb through her hair. Let's see what he's really interested in. She sat on one of the chairs and started applying sunscreen. She had just started on her legs when she saw the lifeguard climb down from his chair and head her way.

“Hey,” he said when he reached her chair. “Nancy, isn't it? You were here with Joanna Tate yesterday?”

“That's right.”

“I thought so. Where's Joanna?” he asked. “She's here almost every day.”

“Oh, she said she was too upset to go anywhere,” Nancy told him. Actually, Nancy had asked Joanna to stay away from the club for a few days, so she could work without
Joanna asking her every ten seconds if she had found the necklace.

Hands on his hips, Mike gave her a big smile. “So? Solved Jo's crime yet?”

“I haven't even started,” Nancy told him with a laugh. “If I'd solved it, you can be sure Joanna would have told the whole world by now.”

“Yeah, that's true,” he said. “Well, do you have any suspects?”

Nancy laughed again, hoping he wouldn't guess that he was one of them. “At this point, your guess is as good as mine. I really haven't spent much time on it.”

“Well, I'm sure I don't know as much about solving crimes as you do.” Mike grinned and started to go back to his chair. “But I'll bet you won't find your thief here in the swimming pool.”

“You're probably right,” Nancy said. “But I couldn't resist. Besides, exercise helps me think.”

“Okay, I'll let you get to it,” Mike told her. “Like I said, I wish you luck.”

When he had finally gone, Nancy lay back on the lounge chair, trying to figure out if Mike was just being friendly or whether his friendliness was a cover for trying to learn how much she knew. Sighing, she realized it was much too early to tell about anyone yet.

Nancy stayed by the pool for half an hour more, listening to the conversations around her. Word of the stolen rare book had obviously reached the club, and everyone was talking about it. People were worried about their own houses, but Nancy noticed that the latest robbery didn't keep them from discussing where they hid their own valuable objects. She wanted to tell them all to keep their mouths shut. If Mike or anyone else at poolside was in on the robberies, then the rest of them were sitting ducks.

“Hi there,” a voice said nearby. “It's Detective Drew, isn't it?”

Squinting into the sun, Nancy saw that Zach, the bartender, was standing over her, his dark eyes sparkling.

“I'm surprised to see you lying down on the job,” he said, joking. “Joanna said you were a great detective, so I figured you'd be out trying to track down the necklace nabber, not soaking up the sun.”

Sitting up, Nancy swung her legs over the side of the lounger and laughed. “Promise not to tell Joanna,” she said. “If she finds out I've been swimming instead of looking for suspects, she'll never forgive me.”

“My lips are sealed,” Zach told her. “But just between you and me, do you think maybe
the trail starts here at the club?” He shifted the tray of cold drinks he was carrying.

Slowly, without looking at him, Nancy slipped on her sandals. She needed those few seconds to think of what to say and how to say it. Suddenly she remembered what Zach had said about Mr. Fairchild's rare book. And at that moment it hit her—the trail did start there. She was sure of it! Maybe Zach was just asking an innocent question, or maybe he was in on the robberies. It didn't matter at the moment. What mattered was that Nancy suddenly realized that she had to be very careful. If the robbers were there, then they'd know about her interest in the case and would be watching every move she made.

“I'm not sure where the trail starts,” she said, casually standing up. “But when I find out, you can bet I'll be on it. Right now, though, I think I'll go into the clubhouse and get something to drink. I've had enough sun for a while.”

Smiling at Zach, Nancy made her way slowly into the clubhouse. Max Fletcher was there, she noticed, looking sleepy. When he saw her, he nodded and yawned at the same time, and Nancy wondered how anyone who was head of a big electronics company could be sitting around on a weekday. Then she realized that
he probably had plenty of people working for him and didn't always have to go into the office himself.

Nancy ordered a soda, and Zach gave her a big wink as he served it.

What was the wink for? Nancy wondered. Sipping her soda she tried to relax. Forget him for now, she told herself. There are plenty of other people here to keep an eye on.

At that moment, one of those people came into the clubhouse. Mike the lifeguard, probably on a break, walked quickly inside. He looked around, frowned, and then moved off toward a stairway. Nancy took a last sip and decided to follow him. Going down the broad stairway, Nancy found herself in a long, narrow hallway and saw Mike just turning the corner at the end of it. Nancy walked a little faster, passing the women's locker room, and turned at the end of the hall. She passed the boiler room and saw Mike disappear into the men's locker room.

That lets you out, Nancy told herself. But maybe by some lucky coincidence Ned was in there, she thought. After all, that's why he had come—to check out the places she couldn't go.

Nancy doubled back down the hall, and as she passed the women's locker room, she thought that she might as well wash the chlorine
out of her hair. She went into the bright yellow- and orange-tiled room, which had at least twenty shower stalls with glass doors.

As Nancy walked in, another girl, who was at the far end of the room, whirled around. She had short, curly carrot-red hair and big brown eyes. She looked frightened.

“Sorry,” Nancy said. “Didn't mean to scare you.”

“That's okay,” the girl said quickly. “I was just leaving, anyway.” Dropping a white canvas carryall on a bench, she hurried out of the room.

“Hey, you left your bag!” Nancy called after her. The girl didn't come back, but Nancy decided she probably would once she missed the bag.

Picking up her fluffy white towel, Nancy peeled off her bathing suit and stepped into one of the stalls.

The club is really serious about showers, she thought as she turned on the faucets. Not only was there the usual shower head at the top of the stall, but there was also a second one below it, aiming straight at her stomach, plus a third one on the opposite wall, which would hit her square in the back.

Might as well enjoy it, she told herself, turning the faucets up high. There was a strange clanging sound in the pipes, and in a
few seconds the water, which was spraying full force out of all three spouts, turned scalding hot. Nancy reached out for the hot faucet and turned it all the way off, bracing herself for a blast of cold.

But the cold spray never came. The water stayed burning hot, and Nancy plastered herself against the shower door to get out of the direct aim of the spray.

Frantically, she pushed against the shower door, expecting it to pop open. When it didn't, her fright turned to terror. Her skin would start to blister any moment. Giving the door a desperate bang, she cried out, “Help! The door's stuck and I'm getting fried!”

T
RYING TO AVOID
the water, she banged and shouted two more times until, finally, the door was wrenched open by a very surprised-looking woman wearing a large floppy hat and a flowered bathing suit.

Nancy scampered out and wrapped herself in her towel. “Thanks,” she said. “I was beginning to turn from rare to medium.”

The woman nodded. “It's a good thing I came back for my bag.” She peered into the shower, which was still pouring out scalding water. “But I wonder what's happening. These showers were installed just a month ago,” she
said. As she talked, the woman went over to the canvas bag on the bench and picked it up. Looking inside, she frowned. “Funny. I was sure I put my watch in here.”

“That's your bag?” Nancy asked.

“Yes. I have a bad habit of forgetting it,” the woman said with a sigh. “And now it looks like I've forgotten my watch, too. I probably left it at home or up by the pool.”

Nancy wasn't so sure about that. Remembering the redheaded girl who had dashed out of the locker room so fast, she had the feeling that this woman's watch was long gone. And if that was true, then she had better find out who that girl was. After all, if you're a thief, she thought, why stop with beach bags? Why not go for the big things?

“Oh, listen to me!” the woman said, slapping her forehead. “Here I am, worrying about my watch while you're standing there like a scalded cat! Come with me to the massage room. I'm sure Rita will have something to take the sting away.”

Nancy had eased herself into the pair of orange shorts and matching top she'd worn to the club. She followed the woman down the hall. They were just about to go into the massage room when the woman spotted Zach coming around the corner and immediately called out to him. “You won't believe it,
Zach,” she said angrily. “Those fancy new showers—one of them just broke and nearly burned this poor girl to a crisp!”

Zach looked at Nancy, worry in his dark eyes. “Are you okay?”

“Oh, sure, I'll be fine,” Nancy said. “It felt like I was stuck in there forever, but it was really just a few seconds. The problem was, I couldn't get anything but hot water.”

“And the door was jammed, too,” the woman reported. “Zach, would you be an angel and call Maintenance to have that door fixed and then call a plumber? I'd do it, but I simply have to get home.”

“Oh, that's right,” Zach said. “Your daughter's coming for a visit, isn't she? Don't worry, Mrs. Ames, I'll call.” He tapped the empty tray he was carrying. “I have to fill another order for the men's locker room, so I'll call from the bar phone.” Smiling at both of them, he headed down the hall toward the stairs.

When Zach was out of earshot, Nancy commented to Mrs. Ames, “He seems to know everyone's business around here, doesn't he?”

“Oh, he's just a friendly fellow,” was all Mrs. Ames said as she motioned Nancy into the women's massage room. “Now, let's take care of you.”

The massage room was small, painted a pale yellow, and had soft music coming out of
hidden speakers. On one of the two tables, a woman was stretched out on her stomach, having her shoulders and back kneaded by a small young woman with short blond hair. a friendly round face, and strong-looking hands.

“Rita,” Mrs. Ames said, “I've got a casualty for you.”

The masseuse turned away from the woman on the table. “What's up, Mrs. Ames?”

When Mrs. Ames explained what had happened to Nancy, Rita went to a white metal closet, pushed aside some jars and gauze, and brought out a small white tube of salve. “This should take care of everything,” she said, handing the tube to Nancy. “But if it doesn't, I guess you'd better see a doctor.”

“Thanks,” Nancy said. “I'm sure it's not that bad.”

“You never can tell,” Mrs. Ames said with a frown. “Oh, I do hope Zach hasn't forgotten to call the plumber.”

“Don't you worry, Mrs. Ames,” Rita told her. “You know Zach. When he says he'll do something, it's as good as done.”

“That's true,” Mrs. Ames agreed, her frown disappearing. “Well, Rita, a massage would be absolutely divine, but I have to rush home and make sure the house is ready.” Smiling at Nancy, she left the room and hurried down the hall.

Carefully, Nancy rubbed some salve onto her sore skin. “It feels better already,” she reported, sighing as the stinging started to fade.

“Good. I thought it would do the trick.” Turning back to the woman on the table, Rita shook her head. “Those new showers are really the pits. Sometimes I think they have minds of their own. I've been scalded twice since they were put in.” She laughed. “But at least I was able to get out.”

As if she'd suddenly woken up, the woman on the table raised her head an inch. “I've never had a problem,” she reported. “And I use them every day.”