Danger on Parade (6 page)

“We still need hard evidence,” Nancy cautioned.

“I'm sure we'll find it,” Bess said, taking a sip of her juice. “Oh—by the way, Greg called. He and Neil are going to be sightseeing this morning, but they want to meet us for lunch at a place called Kim and Karen's Grill. He gave me the address.”

Nancy raised an eyebrow at her friend. “Things seem to be getting serious between you and Greg.”

Bess's face lit up at the mention of the actor's name. “He's great, Nancy,” she said. “I mean, I don't think there's a chance for a major romance or anything, but I just like being with him.”

“Well, before we go meet them for lunch, let's go see that shirt!”

• • •

Nancy and Bess were loaded down with bags when they arrived at the restaurant located in SoHo, an area of Manhattan known for its art galleries. They had spent almost two hours shopping in the unusual boutiques in Greenwich Village.

“I think that silk shirt I got will look great with
my new pants,” Bess said as they entered the restaurant.

“Definitely,” Nancy agreed. She spotted Greg and Neil waiting in a booth toward the back.

“Hi!” Bess said brightly as the two girls slid into the booth.

The two guys barely said hello. Nancy noticed that Greg wouldn't look Bess in the eye. What was going on? Why were they being so unfriendly?

“I'm starved,” Nancy said, trying to break through the tension.

“Mmm,” Greg said noncommittally. He stared down at his menu.

Bess shot Nancy an uncomfortable look as an uneasy silence settled over the table. It wasn't broken until the waiter came to take their order. Nancy and Bess ordered grilled chicken sandwiches on Italian bread, while Neil and Greg ordered hamburgers.

As Neil handed the waiter his menu, he turned to Bess. “So, have you cleared up your problem with the police?” he asked curtly.

“Neil told me you're the lead suspect in the explosion, Bess,” Greg added, leveling a cool gaze at Bess.

Bess looked as if she was going to burst into tears. “It—it was all a misunderstanding!” she said. She got up abruptly and hurried to the bathroom at the rear of the restaurant.

Mumbling an excuse to the guys, Nancy quickly
followed. When she entered the rest room, Bess was standing at the sink, wiping her eyes with a wadded-up tissue.

“Greg hates me,” she said.

“He doesn't hate you,” Nancy assured her. “He's just concerned. Don't worry, Bess. We're going to clear your name.”

She felt terrible for Bess. It didn't seem fair for the guys to judge her when there wasn't any conclusive evidence.

The girls stayed in the rest room a few more minutes, until Bess's eyes became less bloodshot.

“Where's Greg?” Bess asked when they returned to their table.

“He's filming a talk show this afternoon, so he had to eat and run,” Neil replied, nodding toward Greg's empty plate.

During the rest of the meal, Nancy tried to keep up the conversation while Bess silently picked at her grilled chicken sandwich.

“It must be fun entertaining so many celebrities,” she said to Neil.

Neil shrugged. “It's a lot of work. I have to make sure they all get special treatment at their hotels and that they see the sights in New York. The good part is that everyone loves being in the parade, so they're all pretty friendly. Take Greg —who would ever guess that someone so famous and good-looking would be so down to earth?”

Nancy felt Bess shift uncomfortably in her seat.

“He looks just like his pictures,” Nancy said, trying to keep the conversation going. “I don't think he could take a bad photo. I bet even the photo on his driver's license looks good.”

Neil laughed and pulled his wallet from his back pocket. “I take horrible pictures. Look at this.” He pulled out his Mitchell's Department Store ID card. “I look like I'm sneezing.”

“Your face
does
look a little twisted,” Nancy said, smiling. She showed the ID to Bess, but Bess merely nodded. After they talked a little longer, Neil excused himself, saying he had to get back to the store. “The man who's playing Santa is coming for a rehearsal. Jill's swamped, so I said I'd handle it.

“Oh—by the way, I've organized a party tonight at the dance club Inverted,” he added. “We'll be there around nine o'clock.” He wrote down the address for the girls, paid the bill, and then rushed out the door.

It wasn't until after he was gone that Nancy noticed his Mitchell's ID lying on the table. “Oh, no—he forgot this.” She picked up the card and slipped it into her bag. “I guess I'll give it to him at the club later.”

Bess didn't seem to have heard. She was staring down at her plate in silence. After a long pause, she finally spoke.

“Thanksgiving is ruined,” she said. “Greg hates me. He just left without even saying goodbye.”

Nancy wasn't sure what to say. Greg
had
acted very coolly toward Bess. “Well, if he's going to be so quick to judge you, that says a lot about the kind of guy he is. I don't think you should let him ruin your vacation.”

“You're right,” Bess said, giving Nancy a weak smile. “This
is
Thanksgiving. It would just be more fun if Greg weren't mad at me, that's all.”

Nancy smiled and said, “Come on. Jill invited us for a behind-the-scenes look at the parade. Let's go over to Mitchell's and see what's happening this afternoon. Maybe we'll even see Santa rehearsing!”

• • •

“What do you mean the clown costumes haven't arrived yet?” Jill was saying into her telephone receiver as Nancy and Bess arrived at her office.

Seeing Nancy and Bess, Jill waved them in. A moment later she hung up the phone and smiled at the girls.

“How would you two like to take a walk with me?” she asked. “One of the two companies that are providing our clown costumes keeps delaying delivery. My assistants haven't had any luck getting them, so I've got to go myself.”

“Sure, we'll come along,” Bess said.

As they made their way down to the street, Nancy noticed that Jill seemed more relaxed than she had since Nancy and Bess's arrival. “How's everything going?” Nancy asked.

“Actually, today is the first day in a while that I feel in control,” Jill explained. “Neil let me know that the celebrity guests have been arriving on time, and the guest who was sick called to say she'll be able to make it, after all. She'll arrive Wednesday night. Except for these clown costumes, everything seems to be falling into place.”

Jill told the girls that the costume store was about ten short blocks from Mitchell's in the theater district, and she suggested they walk. “This is a great city to walk in,” Jill said. “It's the best way to see it—and sometimes the quickest way to get around.” As they walked, they passed theater marquees advertising various plays. The costume store was located near a large theater. A black sign above the door read Disguise, Inc. Three mannequins were in the window, dressed as a fairy princess, a mermaid, and a soldier.

A bell rang as they entered the shop. A glass case with a cash register at one end ran along one wall. Racks filled with costumes and tables loaded with props and hats were squeezed into the rest of the space.

“Hello. May I help you?” asked a short, gray-haired man who stood behind the glass counter.

“I'm here to pick up the clown costumes for the Mitchell's parade,” Jill said.

The man gazed at Jill uncomprehendingly. “They were delivered to the store yesterday.”

“They were supposed to be, but my staff never received them,” Jill said firmly.

“No, miss, I am sure they went out yesterday,” the gray-haired man said. He shuffled back behind the counter and picked up a pile of receipts. “Let's see. The records of yesterday's deliveries are right here,” he murmured, flipping through the stack. “Lane, Lansman, Marshall, ahh— Mitchell's.” He held up the pink paper. “Here's the receipt.”

Jill frowned. “That's impossible,” she said. “Who signed for the costumes?”

Nancy and Bess gazed over Jill's shoulder at the pink slip on the counter. All three of them gasped as they read the signature.

There, next to the
X,
was the name Bess Marvin.

I
—
I
COULDN
'
T
have signed for them!” Bess stammered, turning red. “I've never even seen any clown costumes!”

Jill took a deep breath. “Bess, are you
sure
you didn't sign for the delivery?” she asked in a tight voice. Nancy could tell she was trying hard to control her anger.

“Bess doesn't even work for the store. She
wouldn't
have signed for them,” Nancy said before Bess could answer. “Plus, we were in your office together. If anyone had asked her to sign for something, I would have seen it.” First the explosion, and now this, she thought. Something about the whole thing smelled like a setup.

“Nancy's right,” Bess said, giving Nancy a grateful look for coming to her defense.

Had someone tricked Bess into signing for the
costumes? Nancy wondered. Or had they forged her name? “Bess, let's compare your signature with the one on the receipt,” she suggested.

Jill asked the man behind the counter for a pen and a piece of paper, and Bess wrote out her full name. The signatures matched exactly.

“Well, that's just great,” Jill muttered angrily. Turning away from Bess, she stormed to the other side of the shop. “I don't care who signed for them, I still need those costumes!” she said.

“They were delivered to you,” the shopkeeper shot back, following her. “Either you return them, or you pay me for them!”

While the two argued, Nancy turned back to Bess. “Someone may have tricked you into signing that receipt,” Nancy said in a low voice. “Think hard, Bess. Have you signed
anything
since we've been in New York?”

Bess closed her eyes, her brow furrowed in concentration. “The only thing I've signed was the charge receipt for the scarf I bought at Mitchell's yesterday evening when I was with Neil and Greg, on our way over to Morelli's,” she said.

“Are you sure you signed a charge receipt and not something else?” Nancy asked.

Bess bit her lip. “We were in such a hurry, and I was talking to Greg. I just signed what was put in front of me,” she said. “I guess it could have been anything.”

“Such as the delivery receipt for the costumes,”
Nancy suggested. She tried to think of who could have set up Bess. Louis Clark, her only suspect for the explosion and break-in, would hardly have been able to pull off the ruse without being noticed. Plus, he didn't even know Bess. On the other hand, maybe he was working with a Mitchell's employee who had seen Bess at the warehouse or the offices.

“Look, why don't you two go sightseeing this afternoon,” Jill said, breaking into Nancy's thoughts. “I have to go make sure the costumes aren't anywhere in the store. Then I have to call around to see if someone—anyone—can deliver new costumes to us overnight.” Before Nancy could offer to help, Jill stormed out of the shop.

“It's not too late to fly home and celebrate Thanksgiving in River Heights,” Bess said, staring after Jill's retreating form. “Of course, now that I'm a wanted criminal, I can't even leave the state.”

Nancy put a comforting arm around Bess's shoulder. “Don't worry, we'll get to the bottom of this,” she said. “We have to do all we can to find out who set you up.”

“We could talk to the salespeople at Mitchell's scarf counter,” Bess suggested, her expression brightening. “I wish I had the receipt, but I think it's at your aunt's.”

“Well, We're meeting Aunt Eloise for tea later, right? I'll call her and ask her to bring the charge receipt. And I'd like to talk to the person from
here who delivered the costumes,” Nancy added. “Maybe he or she can describe the person who really accepted the delivery.”

• • •

“Which salesperson helped you that night?” Nancy asked as she and Bess paused at the edge of the U-shaped scarf counter at Mitchell's Department Store.

Bess stared at the two women who were waiting on customers. “I don't remember,” she said glumly. “It could have been anyone.”

Nancy hoped they would have more luck here than they had had talking to the delivery boy from Disguise, Inc. He had returned to the store while the girls were there, but he hadn't been able to offer much information. There had been so many deliveries the day before that he couldn't even remember whether a man or a woman had signed for the costumes at Mitchell's. He didn't have any idea what the person looked like.

“Can I help you?” An elegantly dressed woman came over to Nancy and Bess.