Don’t Look Twice (5 page)

“It would have to be more than one person,” said George. “You said there were two people in the elevator and one leader at the house.”

“The person to talk to is Mario. He could probably tell us who told him it was a joke,” said Nancy, getting to her feet.

“Nancy, where do you think you're going?” Ned said, pulling her gently back to the chair.

“The first thing we have to do—” Nancy began, but Ned cut her off.

“The first thing we have to do, Drew, is make sure you get a good night's sleep,” he said protectively. “You had a rough time tonight.” He gave her a quick kiss and then stood up. “Dave and I will be at the guest team's dorms at Chicago University. I'll call you in the morning, and we can make a plan of action.”

“I'll drive you there,” offered Denise. “It's on my way home.”

“Good luck with your case, Nancy,” she added as she slid into her leather jacket. “I guess you've got something to keep you busy while we get ready for Monday's game. Let me know if you need any help catching the bad guys. Anyway, I'm sure I'll see you around.”

Nella Sampson saw them to the front door. As soon as everyone left the room, George turned to Nancy. “I'm sorry, Nan,” she said contritely. “I should never have listened to Denise. She's a convincing talker, though. She practically had me thinking you had disappeared just to get attention. Now I think she understands she was wrong about you.”

Nancy shrugged. She wasn't convinced that Denise believed her story even now. “Well, the important thing is to get to the bottom of this,” she said aloud. “I'm going to do it, even if it means wrapping myself up like a mummy and lying by the lake for a half hour.”

George giggled. “Sorry,” she said. “It's just kind of funny to think about, you know.”

“Yeah, I guess.” Nancy grinned. They both started giggling. And soon they were rolling on the floor with laughter.

Nella Sampson poked her head through the doorway. “I'm glad you're having fun, but don't you think you should wrap things up?”

“Wrap things up!” George repeated. It sent the girls into another fit of laughter. Nella just shook her head.

“See you two in the morning. Sleep well.”

• • •

That night Nancy had a dream. She was having a picnic with Ned in a park that they often went to in River Heights. She was wearing an old pair of shorts and a T-shirt. She had forgotten to brush her hair. Looking into the picnic basket, all she saw was cold pizza wrapped in oily napkins. On top of the pizza was a business card from Puccini's.

Then she saw Denise in the distance. Denise was walking slowly through the grass, barefoot and wearing a beautiful, flowing, lacy dress.

Suddenly Ned saw Denise, too. He stood up to go to her. Nancy called to him, but he ignored her and broke into a run to meet Denise. Nancy watched as the two of them were greeted by Nancy's friend Bess. “Hi, Ned! Hi, Nancy!” Bess cried.

Nancy tried to call out to Bess, but the words stuck in her throat. “That's not me. That's Denise!” she kept trying to say, but it came out as a whisper.

Nancy awoke with a start. The image of Ned and Denise was still sharp and vivid. They had looked so good together, so happy. Denise had a sketchbook, and Ned was carrying an art book.

Why had Bess thought that Denise was Nancy? They didn't look that much alike, except for the color of their hair. . . .

Nancy sat straight up in bed. That was it!

“That's who the kidnappers wanted,” she said out loud. “Denise!”

O
F COURSE
! Why hadn't she thought of it before? She and Denise had been sitting at the same table, and they had the same color hair.

The question was, why would anyone want to kidnap Denise? One idea struck Nancy right away—and it didn't make her at all happy.

It had probably looked to anyone watching as if Denise were Ned's girlfriend. After all, Denise was the one who had received his victory hug and kiss after the game. Denise was the one sharing his menu at the restaurant—and they had looked so comfortable with each other.

Nancy had already considered that if someone wanted to have a hold over the Wildcats' star player, they might try to kidnap his girlfriend.
Only the people had confused Nancy with Denise.

There was something about that theory that didn't sound quite right to Nancy, but she didn't have time to figure it out right then. She leapt out of bed and threw her bathrobe over the oversized T-shirt that she had slept in. She had to call Denise. There would be lots of Masons in the Chicago phone book, though. How could Nancy find her telephone number?

Ned would know. Nancy raced down the two flights of stairs to the phone in the kitchen.

Nella Sampson was on the phone, laughing and drinking coffee. She waved to Nancy, then cupped her hand over the mouthpiece. “It's my husband—looks like he's going to be delayed in Detroit for a few more days on business. There's juice on the table. I'll be off in a minute, and we'll whip up some breakfast.”

“Nella, I know this is rude,” Nancy said breathlessly, “but it's an emergency. I have to use the phone.”

“Of course, Nancy.” Nella didn't turn a hair. She just said into the mouthpiece, “I'll call you back, Bob.” Then she hung up and handed Nancy the phone, looking at her expectantly.

Nancy dialed directory assistance to get the switchboard number at the university. The switchboard operator was useless, though. He had no idea where the Wildcats were staying and didn't seem to care when Nancy told him it was
an emergency. “I need a room number,” he kept repeating. Finally Nancy hung up, frustrated.

“What's going on, Nancy? Can I help?” asked Nella Sampson.

“I've got to get through to Ned at the guest dorm, but I don't know which one it is,” Nancy explained.

“Well, why don't we take a ride over there? I'm sure someone on campus can help us out.”

Nancy took the stairs two at a time to the third floor. She threw open the door to the room she was sharing with George.

“George, I have to go find Ned. I'll come back and get you later,” she said softly.

George's head was buried under the comforter, but Nancy heard a muffled, “Okay.”

Nancy dressed quickly in jeans, a teal sweater, and a pair of flat-heeled boots. She found her coat and purse in the closet and practically threw herself down the stairs. Nella was waiting for her at the bottom.

She took one look at Nancy and said, “We'll take my sports car. It'll get us there the fastest.”

The two of them jumped into the tiny yellow sports car, and Nella, her face alight with excitement, gunned the engine. Nancy couldn't suppress a smile. Nella was one of her favorites among her father's friends. Fun-loving and adventurous, she seemed more like an eighteen-year-old girl than a forty-eight-year-old woman.

“I used to teach at the university, so I know the
fastest route,” Nella said, negotiating the little car out of the garage and onto the street. With a squeal of tires, they were off.

As they drove, Nancy explained her thoughts about the kidnapping to Nella. Nella listened intently. “My goodness,” she kept saying. “My goodness. It's all so hard to believe!”

Once they got to the campus, Nella drove to the large dorm complex and stopped the car.

“What now, detective?”

Nancy frowned. She had no idea where to begin, but she was in luck. Someone in a maroon-and-white Eagles jacket was wheeling a bicycle across the frozen lawn.

Nancy immediately recognized him. It was Tim Raphael, the player who had gotten thrown out of the game the night before. Nancy leaned out of the passenger window and called out to him.

“Excuse me, Tim. Could you help us out?”

Tim Raphael slowed his pace and sauntered up to the car. He looked very pleased with himself. “I bet he thinks we're a couple of fans,” Nancy whispered to Nella.

As soon as Tim got close enough to the car to recognize Nancy, his expression changed, though. He seemed almost shocked to see her, but he quickly recovered and pasted a friendly smile on his face. “I met you last night, didn't I?” he asked.

“Sort of. You came over to our table at
Puccini's. My name's Nancy Drew, and this is Nella Sampson,” Nancy said.

“Nice to meet you again,” Tim said, leaning down toward the passenger window. He fixed his gaze right on Nancy. His eyes were a fantastic shade of greenish blue, offset by curly black hair. “So what's up?”

Tim's manner was making Nancy a little uneasy. At first he had seemed shocked to see her, and now he was acting as if they were old friends. What was the matter with him?

“We're looking for the dorm where the Wildcats are staying,” she said quickly.

Tim pulled back a little, his gaze becoming wary again. “Well, I know they have a practice scheduled for ten o'clock in the main gym,” he said. “If you're looking for your boyfriend, you can probably still catch him in his room. They're all on the seventh floor of Harrigan House. That's the low brick building at the far side of the dorm complex.”

As they drove over to Harrigan House, Nancy wondered about Tim's behavior. Why had he had such a strong reaction to seeing her? Could it be that he had been in on this kidnapping thing? It was certainly worth checking into. “I'll have to ask Ned and George if they remember seeing Tim leave Puccini's last night,” she murmured.

“Why?” Nella asked curiously. Then her expression changed quite suddenly. “You think he had something to do with the kidnapping?”

“He does play for the other team,” Nancy pointed out. “And he might know people who have a lot of money riding on the Eagles in the tournament—maybe even the people he was with last night in the restaurant.”

“So, you think he's trying to sabotage the tournament?” Nella shook her head. “I don't agree, Nancy. Tim knew Ned was your boyfriend—you heard him mention it just now. If he'd been part of the kidnapping ring, he would have known that you were the girl he was after, not Denise.”

Unless there's more to Denise and Ned's relationship than anyone is telling me, Nancy thought with a twinge of jealousy. She also knew Nella had a point about Tim.

Still, his behavior toward her had been very odd. There was probably some other angle to the kidnapping, something she was overlooking. Nancy became a little annoyed with herself. It was too early in the case to be jumping to conclusions—she'd have to do some solid investigating first.

They pulled up in front of Harrigan House, and Nella waited in the car while Nancy ran across the lawn and into the brick building. She found Ned in his room, zipping up his gym bag. He was surprised to see her.

“I just called you, but George said you were out looking for me,” he said, giving her a quick kiss. “What's up?”

“I may have solved part of the puzzle,” Nancy announced. After she told him her theory about Denise being the intended victim, she watched the concern spread across his face.

“I have her number right here,” said Ned, feeling for his wallet. He pulled a ripped piece of notebook paper out of the billfold. “We'll have to use the hall phone.”

Ned dialed the number, and Nancy stood by, nervously tying and untying a drawstring from her jacket. She hoped she was wrong—but then again, it might be better if she had guessed right. Better that they should know who the kidnappers were after. That way they'd have a real chance of preventing it.

“Hello, may I speak to Denise, please?” Ned said after a moment. Nancy crowded in close to the phone, and Ned held the receiver a little toward her so they could both hear.

“I'm sorry,” said a woman with a thin voice on the other end of the line. “Denise is gone.”

N
ANCY'S HEART SKIPPED
a beat. Were they too late?