Fatal Ransom (5 page)

“Just get out of here” was his answer.

Out in the corridor again Nancy stood still, thinking. She had to get hold of those tapes, and as soon as possible. But what was the best way to do it?

“Nancy!” Bess and George were heading toward her. “I just caught up with George,” said Bess breathlessly. “I wanted to tell you right away—my friend called me, and the blood type in the car was A negative. At least we have that much to go on.”

She shook her blond hair back and rolled her eyes. “I'll tell you something else too. If this weren't such a life-and-death situation, I wouldn't care if this case never ended. That Lance Colson is a
hunk.”

Nancy and George glanced quickly at each other, trying to conceal their smiles. Nancy knew they were thinking the same thing—Bess was in love again.

“How'd you make out with that security guard?” George asked.

Nancy shook her head. “I didn't. That is, I started out fine, but he clammed up when I mentioned Lance. I don't think he'll say anything more. But I've got to get back into his office. Let's go get something to eat while I think of a way to do it.”

• • •

A chocolate shake apiece later, Nancy had come up with a plan, As the girls walked down the narrow corridor that led to the security office, she told Bess and George, “Remember, make it sound like a big deal.”

She slipped into one of the storage rooms and listened as George and Bess went racing past her. Frantically they pounded on Lester Mathers's door.

“Help!” Bess shrieked. “Fight!”

He jerked open the door. “Where? What's going on?”

“There's a big fight down at the end of the mall! A whole bunch of kids. They're trashing the place!” Bess said.

“We came to get you as fast as we could,” George added.

Nancy smiled to herself. She could always count on Bess and George to give great performances.
They'd almost managed to convince
her
something was wrong.

“Come on!” said Bess. “We'll show you where it is.”

Lester, Bess, and George dashed past Nancy's hiding place. Lester was hurriedly pulling out his walkie-talkie to speak to his guards.

“Fight!” he radioed. “B section. I'm on my way.”

Quickly Nancy slipped around the corner and through the security office door, which had been left open by George. George had made sure she was the last one out, so the door hadn't been deadbolted.

Nancy darted to the rack of videotapes above Lester's desk. All of them were dated. Perfect, Nancy thought. She followed the dates until she found Sunday's tape—the tape of the day that Hal had vanished. “This might show us something,” she murmured, slipping the tape into her oversize shoulder bag. She grabbed the tape from the previous Wednesday, too, just to have something to compare Sunday's tape to.

Carefully she rearranged the tapes in that section of the rack so Lester wouldn't notice that two were missing. Then she glanced around the office to see if there was anything else there that might be useful.

Nothing she could see. She was starting to get nervous because she didn't know how long Bess and George could keep Lester occupied. But she knew it was time to get out of there. Quietly she opened the office door.

“What do you think you're doing?” Lester Mathers said, looking her straight in the eye.

N
ANCY HAD BEEN
right. It
had
been time to get out of there.

“Sorry to bother you again,” she said. “I—I think I left something in here. My notebook. Have you seen it?”

Lester walked past her into his office. He sat down at his desk and leaned back in the creaky swivel chair, staring at the ceiling. “Now, why is it that I don't believe you?” he asked slowly.

“I know it was dumb of me,” Nancy said with what she hoped was a convincing giggle.

“No, Miss Susan Bigelow, it was dumb of me,” he answered. “You set up that fight, didn't
you? So you could snoop around in here. What are you, some kind of spy for Colson?”

“No! Of course not! I had nothing to do with that fight! I'm just trying to do my job!” Nancy said. It's truer than you know, she thought.

“Well, don't come around here anymore, job or no job, or I'll see to it that you never set foot in this mall again.” He stood up. “I'll walk you out,” he finished grimly.

As she exited from his office, Nancy suddenly noticed a pay phone just outside the door. It made her remember the girl's voice she had overheard earlier. If only she'd had a chance to follow up on that!

Lester deposited her at the wide mall corridor.

“Thank you very much!” Nancy managed to say cheerfully as he stalked off. This time he didn't even bother to answer her.

“Three strikes and you're out,” she muttered under her breath. Three times she had been kicked out in the mall—twice from Lester's office, and once from the shoestore. Perhaps she had been there long enough.

She could see Bess and George down the corridor, and Nancy headed toward them. On her way she passed a muscle-bound boy about sixteen years old. He was wearing oversize tennis shoes with no laces, baggy pants, and a
studded leather jacket over a torn T-shirt. His head had been shaved, and he had three cross-shaped earrings in his right ear.

“Hey, Dracula!” a pink-haired girl called out as she passed by him. “Where've you been?”

“Hey, yourself!” he answered. “How's it going?”

“Dracula”? The note in Hal's car had had a picture of a vampire at the bottom. Could this kid possibly be connected with the note?

It was a long shot, but one worth following. Nancy motioned for Bess and George to follow her. Weaving her way through the crowd, she followed Dracula as fast as she could. But just as she was about to catch up with them, someone grabbed her arm and spun her around.

“What do you think you're doing?” a voice asked.

She was face-to-face with Amy Tyler.

“Look, you,” Amy said. “I don't know why you were following him, but in the future, don't. Just leave him alone—if you know what's good for you.”

Nancy took a deep breath. “And who appointed you guardian angel of Woodland Mall?” she asked.

“He's a friend of mine. Friends stick up for friends,” Amy replied.

“Tell us about it,” George said, moving up behind Nancy. Bess was next to her. But Amy
didn't pay any attention to them. She was still glaring, at Nancy.

“I think you'd better know something,” she said. Her voice was almost a growl. “Any friend of Monica Sloane's is an enemy of mine. So stay out of my way.”

Nancy burst out laughing. Amy sounded exactly like someone from an old, melodramatic movie. “I'll try to do that,” she said. “Thanks for the warning, Amy.”

Amy tried to answer, but she was so angry she was stuttering. Finally she turned and walked away.

“What was that all about?” asked George.

“That, boys and girls, was the one and only Amy Tyler,” Nancy answered. “Hal Colson's girlfriend.” She scanned the mall quickly. Dracula was nowhere to be seen. “And she's just spoiled the best lead I've had so far,” she added with a sigh.

“Who's Monica Sloane?” Bess asked.

“She's Lance Colson's ex-girlfriend. She happens to be living in the Colson mansion right now, but I understand she'll be moving out as soon as she has a place of her own.”

Bess's face had no expression. “Lance didn't mention her when I was over there,” she said. “Why is that, do you think?”

“I guess she's not on his mind that much anymore,” said Nancy.

Bess brightened. “Of course not! A guy who was as open and friendly as Lance was to me today can't possibly be attached to anyone. Probably he's forgotten all about her already. I can usually tell about stuff like that.”

“I'd like to meet this open, friendly guy,” George said.

“Actually, you're about to,” Nancy said. “I was just thinking that we had pretty much exhausted the possibilities here. Let's go back to the Colson mansion and touch base with Lance.”

“Great idea,” said Bess. “Drive fast.”

• • •

It was almost dinnertime as the three friends walked up the driveway toward the Colson house. Nancy noticed a piece of paper hanging out of the door of Lance's car. Another note? She opened the door and removed it; it was some kind of brochure.

“What's that?” asked Bess.

Nancy stared at the paper in the half light. A travel brochure,” she said. “For Saint-Tropez.” She stuffed the brochure into her bag. It was probably nothing, she thought, but the brochure did look brand-new. Why would Lance be thinking about traveling at a time like this?

After Nancy had introduced George to Lance, she briefed him on their afternoon and then asked him about his.

“Well, Monica did some errands—”

“Yes, I ran into her,” Nancy said dryly.

“And I took a walk. I just needed some time to myself to clear my head and try to cope with all this. It's really starting to get to me.”

“I can understand that,” Nancy said warmly. “But, Lance, don't you think you should stay by the phone in case the kidnappers try to call?”

“I—I guess I forgot about that,” said Lance.

“Of course!” Bess said, placing a protective hand on his arm. “You've been under a terrible strain. It's such a shame you can't get away from all this.”

That reminded Nancy. She took the brochure out of her bag and showed it to him. “This was sticking out of your car door,” she said. “I picked it up—I hope you don't mind.”

Lance shrugged. “Saint-Tropez. I'd forgotten all about it.”

“Who could forget Saint-Tropez?” George asked casually.

“Hal and I were planning to go on a vacation,” Lance said. “I thought it might be a good idea to get away for a while, just the two of us.” He laughed hollowly. “We actually thought we might be able to settle our petty differences if we were on neutral ground.”

“Sounds like a great idea to me,” Bess said. “If anything could do it, I bet that would.”

Nancy wished Bess would slow down. When
she had a crush on someone, Bess went deaf, dumb, and blind. She supported her man at every turn. It was like being with a live country-and-western song.

But Bess's face fell when Lance mentioned Monica. “I'd appreciate it if you didn't tell her about these travel plans,” he said. “She wasn't going to be included. And now that we aren't going to take the trip anyway, there's no point in upsetting her.”

“Didn't you think she might have missed you?” Nancy asked.

“Well, yes,” Lance said. “But actually, I thought she would be gone by the time we left. I expect her to be moving out any day now. Really.” He glanced quickly at Bess.

The look in Bess's eyes was one of sheer delight. She moved a little closer to Lance, and her arm brushed against his.

“Have you ever been to Saint-Tropez?” Lance asked her.

Bess flushed. “No, but I'd love to go,” she said with a giggle.

Subtle, Nancy thought to herself. Really subtle.

Lance was smiling. “Actually, Saint-Tropez was Hal's idea,” he said. “I wanted to go to Monaco. But they're pretty close . . .”

Nancy couldn't quite tell why the casual flirtation between Lance and Bess was bothering
her. Was it because she was missing Ned? Because she felt lonely—or left out? Because Bess was making a fool of herself? Or because it seemed so strange that Lance would even bother to put the moves on someone when his nephew was in such awful danger?

She tried to shake off her irritation. She knew that people in difficult situations often acted in ways that seemed inappropriate—just to ease the terrible fear they were dealing with. Lance was probably one of those people.

It's understandable for him to do this, Nancy told herself, watching Lance turn on the charm once again for Bess. She supposed she couldn't fault either one of them. But she still felt vaguely annoyed.

It was time to get back to reality. “Lance,” she said decisively, “Lester Mathers didn't help me much. And somehow I don't think he'll want to talk to me any further. Is there anything else you can tell me about this case? Anything at all that might produce another lead?”

Lance thought for a minute. “No, nothing.” He frowned, then added, “But I'm still sure that Amy has something to do with Hal's disappearance. As I said, she'd do anything for some of his money.”

Nancy leaned forward. “I'm going to do everything I can to link Amy and that other kid, Dracula—if that's really his name—to Hal, but
so far I don't have anything. It's true that Amy doesn't dress like Miss Teen America, but that doesn't mean she's guilty of anything.”

Nancy patted the shoulder bag hanging on the arm of her chair. “I have two of the mall's scanner tapes. I—uh, borrowed them. They might produce something for us, but it's not likely.