Danger on Parade (3 page)

She stopped talking as the waiter arrived with their food. As he set her club sandwich in front of her, her stomach growled. With all that had happened, she hadn't realized how hungry she was. She bit into the sandwich, momentarily forgetting about the explosion.

Rob glanced over at the manager, who was still standing by the pillar near their table. “Well, Greg, so far I've counted four girls he's turned
away. Maybe you should sign a bunch of napkins and let him give them out.”

“Nancy, have you noticed all the girls looking at us? They're
jealous
of us!” Bess added, grinning. “Maybe they'll want
our
autographs.”

She took out a pen and signed her napkin “Best Wishes, Bess Marvin” with a heart after her name.

“Forget the fans. I'll take that,” Greg said. Grinning at Bess, he slipped the signed napkin into his jacket pocket. Bess looked down at her plate and picked up a french fry, but Nancy noticed that her cheeks were flushed with pleasure.

“So what are you girls up to this afternoon?” Rob asked, after taking a huge swallow of his soft drink.

Nancy and Bess looked at each other. In all the commotion, they hadn't really thought about what they were going to do next.

“Well, we're in midtown. Maybe we should go window shopping on Fifth Avenue,” Nancy suggested.

Bess's eyes lit up. “You know me—born to shop! I'm ready whenever you are,” she said.

After they finished eating, Greg paid the check, then gave the girls the address of
Young You
magazine, telling them to meet him there at five o'clock. Then he and Rob slipped into the limousine, while Nancy and Bess started walking toward Fifth Avenue.

“Nancy, isn't he great?” Bess asked.

“Greg seems like a really nice guy,” Nancy agreed. “I think he likes you.”

“You do?” Bess's mouth dropped open. “Are you sure? I mean, could he? He's so famous! Tons of girls are in love with him.”

Nancy grinned at her friend. “Well, judging by the way he looks at you, I think he likes you a lot.”

Bess let out a sigh. “Every time I look at him I think it's a poster, and then I realize the poster is talking to me.”

All of the boy-talk made Nancy think of Ned Nickerson, her longtime boyfriend. As a member of his college football team, he had to get ready for the big Thanksgiving Day game and hadn't been able to come to New York.

“Nancy, look!” Bess exclaimed, stopping short on the sidewalk.

They had arrived at Fifth Avenue, and Bess was staring at the window of a fancy jewelry store. “Do you like that bracelet?” Bess asked, pointing to a gold bracelet studded with diamonds and emeralds. “It's on me—as soon as I make my first million, that is.”

The two broke out laughing. As they continued their window shopping, Nancy marveled at the beautiful clothes and shoes. Before long, they arrived at Saks Fifth Avenue, one of New York's most exclusive department stores. Inside, makeup counters of every kind stretched as far as the
eye could see. Holly branches and twinkling white lights were already decorating the ceiling, signifying the start of the holiday season.

Bess hesitated near the entrance. “You know I've always loved this store,” she said. “But now that we've been behind the scenes at Mitchell's, I feel like a traitor shopping here.”

“Me, too,” Nancy agreed.

They turned to leave. Right across the street was Rockefeller Center. The plaza area was decorated with branches of colorful fall leaves twisted into artistic shapes.

“Now,
this
is New York,” Nancy said as they crossed the street and walked through the plaza. At the far side, they paused at a railing and gazed down at skaters who were gliding along on the ice of the rink below. Music blared from speakers, and the setting sun glinted off the ice.

“Hmm, where are my sunglasses?” Bess rummaged through her bag. Finally she looked up at Nancy. “I think I lost them,” she said. “They were my favorites, too.”

“Where's the last place you had them?” Nancy asked, flipping up the collar of her coat. As the sun set, the chilly November air suddenly seemed a lot colder.

Bess's brow furrowed into lines of concentration. “I'm not sure,” she said. “I know I had them in the cab on the way to the parade studio in Brooklyn. After that I don't remember.”

“Maybe you left them there,” Nancy said.
“We'll call Jill and ask her to bring them with her when she returns to the store—that is, if they weren't destroyed in the fire.”

They watched the skaters for a few more minutes and then found a pay phone on the street corner. Nancy fished in her pocket for the card with Jill's number on it and handed it to Bess, who inserted some change in the pay phone and dialed the number.

“Hi, is Jill Johnston there? This is Bess Marvin,” Bess spoke into the receiver. After a short pause, she said, “Hi Jill, it's Bess. I just realized I lost my sunglasses, and I think maybe I left them there. I was wondering if you could—”

Bess stopped speaking. She had a confused expression on her face. “Um, s-sure. I'll be right there.”

“Bess, what is it?” Nancy whispered.

Bess slowly hung up the phone. She looked as if she were in shock.

“Bess, is everything okay?” Nancy asked. “What did Jill say?”

“I told her that I left my sunglasses, and then she—I—” Bess broke off and covered her face with her hands. When she finally looked at Nancy, two thin tracks of tears stained her cheeks.

“Nancy, the detectives think the explosion at the warehouse was deliberate.” Bess swallowed hard before continuing. “They want to question
me
right away!”

N
ANCY STARED AT
B
ESS
in disbelief. “They want to question
you?”
she echoed. “Bess, there has to be a mistake. Are you sure you heard her right?”

“I'm positive,” Bess said, obviously distressed. “The police think
I
may have caused the explosion!”

“I'm sure it's all a misunderstanding. We'll straighten it out when we get there,” Nancy said, giving Bess a quick hug. “They probably just want to ask if you saw anything odd.”

During the taxi ride to Brooklyn, Bess stared silently out the window. When they arrived at the warehouse, Neil and Jill were talking to a heavy-set, gray-haired officer on the sidewalk outside the building. Two younger officers were checking to make sure the police barriers were in place.
Except for two police cars, all the other emergency vehicles had gone. The fire was out, but a terrible smoky smell hung in the air.

“Detective Green, this is Bess Marvin and Nancy Drew,” Jill introduced the girls to the older man. Lines of worry were etched into Jill's brow.

“Ms. Marvin?” the detective asked, running a finger over his bushy gray mustache.

When Bess nodded, the detective reached into his pocket and pulled out a plastic bag containing the charred remains of a pair of sunglasses and a book of matches from the River Heights Café. “Are these yours?” he asked.

“Yes,” Bess answered slowly. “How did you—?”

“Bess, I told them they were yours. I remembered them from the car ride,” Jill explained.

“I—I don't know how you have them,” Bess said, looking confused. “They must have fallen out of my bag.”

Detective Green gave Bess a dubious look. He stepped over to one of the police cars and returned with a second plastic bag. This one contained a charred red-and-white plastic box with a timer attached. Nancy stared at the box in surprise. It had to be the timer that had been used to set off the explosion!

“Have you ever seen this before?” the detective asked Bess.

“No. Never,” Bess replied, shaking her head.
She looked as if she was about to cry. Nancy couldn't remain silent any longer.

“Detective, Bess was with me all day long,” she said, stepping forward. “I've known her almost my whole life, and she would never do anything like this.” She pointed at the bag with Bess's glasses in it. “Besides, what do Bess's sunglasses have to do with the explosion?”

The detective shot Nancy a glare that said he didn't appreciate her intervention. Neil Steem stepped forward and explained. “They were found lying near the acetylene torches, Nancy,” he told her.

“They must have dropped out of Bess's bag when she fell near the tanks earlier,” Nancy explained.

The detective jotted a few words in his notepad, then shifted his gaze back to Bess. “Ms. Marvin, why don't you tell me everywhere you've been today?”

Bess took a deep breath, then began retracing her steps from the time she and Nancy had left Eloise Drew's apartment that morning. When she finished, the detective stepped away to confer with the two other police officers. They had finished checking the police barriers and were waiting nearby.

Nancy tried to give Bess an encouraging smile, but Bess merely stared down at her feet.

“Ms. Marvin,” Detective Green said, returning to the group, “so far the only evidence we
have—and I'll admit it's not much—points to you as the one who set up the explosion. So I'm going to have to ask you not to go back to River Heights just yet.”

Bess's face was bright red. Tears streaming down her cheeks, she nodded wordlessly. A moment later, Detective Green gestured to the other officers. After saying goodbye to Jill and Neil, they got into their cars and left.

“Jill, I'm so s-sorry, but I really didn't do anything wrong,” Bess stammered, giving Jill a beseeching look.

Jill hesitated for a moment. “I—I know,” she finally said, rubbing her temples as if she had a headache. “Look, it's over. I'm sure the police will find out what really happened. Let's try not to think about it.” Despite her words, Jill didn't look entirely convinced of Bess's innocence.

“This job's not all fun and games, huh, Jill?” Neil said, patting Jill on the back. “At least there's still enough time to repair the damaged floats and balloons before Thanksgiving.”

Nancy turned to gaze at the studio warehouse. “Was there a lot of damage?” she asked.

“Come on. You can see for yourself,” Jill said with a sigh. “We were pretty lucky. The fire was put out right away, and the floats were far enough away from the tanks that they only received minor damage. And most of the balloons were at the other warehouse,” she explained. She stepped past the police barricades and used her ID card
to unlock the outside door, then led the way down the long hallway to the studio.

The group paused inside the studio door to look around. The floor and wall close to the tanks were completely burned. Small yellow caution triangles had been laid out on the floor. Some of the windows had been blown out, leaving shattered glass everywhere, and there was considerable water damage. But farther away from the tanks there was less damage.

Jill pointed to the cat balloon Nancy had seen earlier. Its face was charred, and one paw was nothing more than a large burnt hole.

“Is there any word on how Jules is doing?” Bess asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

“We called the hospital and found out that he's okay, except for a sprained wrist and a slight concussion,” Neil answered. “They're keeping him overnight in the hospital for observation.”

Glancing at her watch, Nancy realized that it was already a quarter to five. She and Bess were due to meet Greg at
Young You
in just fifteen minutes. Still, she didn't want to leave if Jill needed them. “Jill, is there anything we can do?” Nancy asked.

Jill forced a smile. “No, no. Neil and I can handle it,” she said wearily. “I'm sorry I had to call you back, but the police insisted.”

Nancy was lost in thought while Jill called them a taxi. She knew that Bess hadn't had anything to do with the explosion, but someone
had. Two questions kept nagging at Nancy: Who
was
responsible? And why had they done it?

• • •

“I know I'm going to jail,” Bess said glumly twenty minutes later. A cab had just let off Nancy and her in front of a brownstone building at Thirty-sixth Street and Seventh Avenue.

“Bess, the police didn't say anything about jail,” Nancy said, hesitating outside the building. A brass plate next to the door read Young You. Even though they were a few minutes late, Nancy didn't want to go in when Bess was still so upset.

Bess rubbed at an imaginary spot on her leather jacket. “Once Greg finds out about this, he's never going to like me. He'll think I'm a criminal.”

“If he really likes you, he's not going to believe you're a criminal.” Nancy pulled a mirror out of her purse and handed it to Bess. “Here. Put on some more of that Plum Rose lipstick. I bet Greg will love it.”

“You think so?” Bess asked hopefully. She quickly freshened her makeup, then squared her shoulders and said, “Okay, I'm ready.”