Model Menace 2 (10 page)

“This is Nancy Drew,” Hans replied, surprising me—that he knew my name, and that he was going to show me some respect even though I’d interrupted their private meeting. “Nancy has quite a reputation in this town, I gather—she’s an amateur detective.”

The other crew members murmured curiously, glancing at me with surprise.

“In fact,” Hans went on, “Nancy’s already rid us of a traitorous bridesmaid.” He smiled.

“That was
you
?” Butch, a cameraman, asked. He looked at me like he couldn’t believe I could catch a mouse, much less a crook.

Of course, I was used to this.

“You should report this to the police,” I repeated, turning back to Hans. “It’s the most serious attack yet. Someone could have been killed. Who knows what this person will try next?”

Hans sighed. He looked at me, really seeming to be considering my idea, but then shook his head. “Nancy,” he said, “if we alert the police, we stop filming. We lose control of the situation. We lose, potentially, the thousands of dollars we’ve sunk into this television special.” He paused. “That said,” he continued finally, “we could use your help.”

And he touched my arm and led me back to the “staging area,” where most of the
Daredevils
crew was set up—a small square of grass across from the boathouse. A television van was parked there. Hans knocked on the door, and Donald—who’d long since left the tears and chaos of the boathouse—answered.

“I want to show Nancy the tape,” Hans told Donald.

Donald looked surprised. “Are you sure?” he asked. “It’s very inconclusive.”

Hans nodded. “I want her to see what we’re up against.”

Donald retreated into the van, and Hans led me inside. The van was filled with video equipment. One television showed a black-and-white grainy image of the altar on the beach. Hans gestured to it.

“As you know, Nancy, we’ve been building this set for three days. The last of the lighting was put in place last night at around eleven. We left it here, guarded, and with high security—meaning cameras.” He nodded at the screen. “Unfortunately for all of us, it would appear that our night watchman fell asleep last night. He’s not entirely sure, but he thinks he was out from one o’clock in the morning until three. He has, by the way, been fired.”

I nodded, not sure how to react. “Good?”

“Anyway,” Hans said, “our saboteur would have had to have struck within that time frame. And as it happens, we did get some video footage.”

He leaned over to what appeared to be a DVD player and hit Rewind. The image sprung into motion, moving backward so quickly that I could just barely make out a dark figure backing out of the frame.

Then Hans hit Play. I leaned in closer, trying to get a good look as a dark figure entered the frame from the left. He—or she—was fairly tall, but draped entirely in a huge, dark, baggy raincoat. He took a few steps, then paused and looked up—directly at the camera! I gasped. Whoever it was, the figure was wearing a black ski mask to hide his or her face. The video was so grainy I couldn’t make out hair or even skin color. In one swift motion, the figure reached into a pocket and removed a can of spray paint. He or she held up the can, and the image was quickly obliterated as the wedding saboteur covered the camera lens with thick foam.

“That’s it,” Hans explained. “That’s all we have to go on.”

I was silent. Clearly that image wasn’t going to lead to an arrest. Which meant that the producers had nothing. And as much as I’d pushed to report the incident to the police, I knew the River Heights Police. I wasn’t entirely sure whether they’d be able to get much more than this.

“If you have any hunches, Nancy,” Hans went on, “any at all, now’s the time to share them. If you want to save your friend’s wedding and keep all her guests safe.”

I let out a deep sigh.
Jamal and Akinyi.
The names were on the tip of my tongue. They’d been around for all of the incidents so far, and one or both of them could have snuck into the park last night. And I had to admit, if I hadn’t met and liked them both—and more importantly, if I hadn’t known how much
Syd and Vic
loved them—I would have voiced my suspicions a long time ago.

“Akinyi and Jamal,” I said in a low voice, taking no pleasure in sharing this information. “The best man and the maid of honor. Between the two of them, they were present at all the incidents, and they had the opportunity.”

Hans frowned. “But why would they do it?” he asked.

“They’re sort of seeing each other,” I replied. “Or at least, they have in the past. And Vic lost a very lucrative job for Jamal a few years ago. Vic thinks he’s forgiven him, but I don’t know that he has.”

Hans looked at me for a moment, as if judging whether he could trust me, and then nodded. “Donald,” he said, “bring Akinyi and Jamal in here.”

I felt my blood run cold.
You’re going to ask them? Now?
But deep down, I knew they’d want to see how any suspects reacted to an accusation. And Hans wasn’t a sleuth. If he was going to search their rooms, it would be because he got their permission and the keys to their rooms. There would be no “I lost my key” dance for the
Daredevils
director.

It probably took only a couple minutes before Akinyi and Jamal entered the van, but they felt like hours. As soon as Akinyi entered, she shot me a confused look. Jamal looked from me to Akinyi to Hans, as though he had no idea what was going on.

“Sit down,” Hans urged them. They did.

“What’s this about?” Jamal demanded, somewhat impatiently. “Because in case you hadn’t noticed, my best friend is having kind of a rough afternoon and I’d like to be there for him.”

“Me too,” agreed Akinyi. “What could be so important?”

Hans looked over at me. “Nancy, would you like to explain?”

No,
I thought. But I knew I had to. “Well…” I began, “the thing is…”

I broke off. How was I going to put this? The only way was just to put it all on the table.

“I’ve been keeping track of who was around for the different attacks on Vic and Syd…and the text messages that followed,” I explained.

Akinyi nodded. “Okay.”

I took a deep breath. “Either you or Jamal has always been present,” I went on. “And one or both of you has always disappeared right as the act was taking place…meaning you, well, you might have done it.”

Akinyi’s eyes turned immediately cold. She looked at me like she’d never seen me before in her life. Jamal just sighed, putting his head in his hands with an expression like he’d been afraid this would happen.

“And
why
would I have done this?” Akinyi asked, her voice rising. “Syd is my best friend. Why would I ruin her wedding?”

I sighed. “Well, to be fair, you haven’t always been very psyched to be a part of that wedding,” I pointed out. “But if you’re asking what your motive would be…I’m guessing it has something to do with Vic getting Jamal fired years ago. That completely changed your life, Jamal. I can see your being upset.”

Jamal let out a short bark of laughter. “But I’m
not,
” he insisted, meeting my eye. Even though I knew I was only sharing my observations, the disappointment in his eyes still shamed me. “Vic is my best friend. I forgave him, because that’s what best friends do.”

Perhaps sensing the tension building in the air, Hans leaned forward. “Listen,” he said. “I’m sure you can understand the importance of getting this matter cleared up. Both for everyone’s safety here, and for the sake of our television program. We really just want to film a wedding here, people. Not a real-life game of Clue.”

Akinyi scowled. “So you think it was Colonel Mustard and Miss Scarlet in the park with the can light, is what you’re saying?”

Hans shook his head. “I’m not sure of anything.” He paused and looked from Akinyi to Jamal, his expression frank and curious. “Would you like to tell me where you were this morning between one a.m. and three a.m.?”

The two turned to each other, clearly uncomfortable. “Well,” said Jamal. “I…I was in my room.”

Hans nodded. “Did anyone see you? Did you talk to anyone, call or e-mail anyone?”

Jamal sighed.

“He was talking to me,” Akinyi said after a moment. “I was in his room too.” When I gasped, Akinyi turned to me and blushed. “We were talking about…us.”

Hans nodded again. “But did anyone
see
you? Can anyone confirm this besides the two of you?”

Jamal frowned, clearly putting two and two together. “No,” he said gravely. “It was early in the morning, after all. We only saw each other.” He paused. “So what does that mean? You haul us off to jail now?”

Hans pursed his lips, as if slightly offended, and shook his head. “I would merely like your permission to look in your rooms at the hotel.”

Jamal and Akinyi turned to each other, both frowning. It was clear that neither one of them were happy about this. But I knew, too, if they really had something to hide, they would hesitate.

It only took about ten seconds for the two of them to make their decision. “Fine with me,” Jamal said.

“Me too,” Akinyi agreed.

I traveled with Hans and a few other crew members to search Akinyi and Jamal’s hotel rooms. Akinyi and Jamal followed along also, both looking grim. Whether that grimness was due to their guilt or their frustration at being wrongly accused, I couldn’t tell.

“You will wait here, with these security guards,” Hans told the two suspects, leaving them in the hallway under the watch of two burly bodyguards. “Nancy, Donald, and I will look in your rooms.”

Akinyi caught my eye the second before Hans opened the door to her room, and I didn’t know what to say, or even what expression to put on my face. I felt terrible about all this. “Akinyi, I hope…Personally, I don’t think you’d ever do this. The logistics just match up. Do you understand?”

Akinyi just shook her head, swiped at her eyes and turned away. Well. How could I expect her to understand?

Inside Akinyi and Jamal’s room, the search went quickly. And unfortunately, it went as I’d feared.

“Does this belong to you?” Hans asked Jamal a few minutes later, holding up a dark, baggy raincoat.

“That’s mine,” Akinyi replied. “The baggy trench coat is all the rage in Paris right now. Why? Does it have something to do with the case?”

Hans just turned grimly to Donald, who stood behind him. Donald held up a nearly-empty can of shaving cream that we’d also found in Jamal’s room. “And this?” he asked Jamal in a small voice. Does…this look familiar?”

Jamal sighed. “Of course!” he replied. “I used it to shave this morning. Was I supposed to show up at my best friend’s wedding with a face full of stubble?”

Hans sighed deeply, turning to look at Donald and I. Neither one of us were eager to meet his eyes, but we did. “I guess,” Hans said slowly, “that we have no choice.”

“What, no choice?” Akinyi asked, a desperate note creeping into her voice. “What do you mean?”

Hans turned back to the couple and made a hand gesture to the guards, who grasped Jamal and Akinyi forcefully. “Akinyi and Jamal, we’re going to need to turn you over to the police,” Hans went on. “I’m very sorry.”

“T
his isn’t how I thought it would be,” Syd said sadly, clutching her bouquet to her chest as the organ music started again.

It was perhaps two hours after Hans, Donald, and I had brought Akinyi and Jamal to the River Heights Police Station, explaining what we’d learned so far and what we thought they were responsible for. After that, we’d rushed back to the park, and Hans had gathered Syd and Vic to explain what happened. Already shaken by the events of the day, both bride and groom took the news hard, with lots of disbelief and then tears.

“I can’t believe this,” Vic sniffled, wiping at his eyes with the back of his sleeve. “I trusted that guy. I love that guy! And all this time, he’s hated me?”

Syd patted his back, wiping away tears of her own with a handkerchief her mother had given her. “And Akinyi,” she said sadly. “She could be a little feisty, but she’s my best friend. I wanted her to be here.”

“Listen,” Hans had said, clapping them both on their shoulders, “I know this has been a very rough day for you. But the truth is, our permits on this space run out at midnight. Now, we can give you a few minutes to pull yourselves together, go ahead with the ceremony, and film it. Otherwise, you’re free to postpone—but keep in mind, the special will be ruined. And all the money you’re getting will fall through the cracks.” He paused, looking in both Syd’s eyes, then Vic’s. “Understand?”

Syd and Vic had been upset, of course, but eventually they decided that they definitely still wanted to marry each other, and that none of the crazy events of the wedding had destroyed the most important thing—their love for each other.

“Let’s do this,” Vic had said. “By nightfall tonight, I want to be able to call you my wife.”

And so here we were, all lined up in the same row we’d been in before, minus Akinyi.

“None of you are hatching crazy plots against me, are you?” Syd half-joked as we stood in place for the second time that day. “Because I’m already down two bridesmaids. Anyone else who’s against this wedding, step out of line right now.”

Bess, George, and I had met eyes, then simultaneously walked back to Syd to give her a big hug.

“Sydney,” Bess had said, patting her back, “you know we love you, and we’re so happy for you.”

Syd had given us a warm smile, dabbing at her eyes one more time. “Thanks, guys.” She paused, looking behind us. “Wait a minute—where’s Pandora?”

I whipped my head around. Sure enough, our flakiest bridesmaid was missing again—no big surprise there. Sighing, I told Syd I would find her. She was probably just outside the boathouse “meditating” again. Really, it seemed a little far-fetched now that we’d ever considered such a space cadet capable of the crimes Akinyi and Jamal had committed.

I opened the back door to the boathouse, the one that opened away from all the guests and commotion, and sure enough, I heard Pandora’s distinctive voice.

“Yeah,” she was saying with a mean chuckle, “it’s kind of hard to be happy for him after the jerk broke off our million-dollar TV series because he was soooo in love with Syd. I mean, I get it, but can’t you just play for the cameras? Like they always want us to do? Like we did all season? Hold on…”

I was frozen in place.
Million-dollar TV series? Play for the cameras?
What was she talking about?

It took me a minute to realize that Pandora had placed her hand over the phone and turned to face me, smiling her usual spacey smile. “Are they ready, Nancy?”

“Yes,” I said simply. “We need you inside.”

“No prob.” Pandora smiled again and picked up her phone. “I’ll call you back later, sis. Got to go be a bridesmaid.”

She flipped the phone shut, stood up, and followed me back inside.

My mind was racing a hundred miles an hour, but I had no time to do anything. The music was already playing. The groomsmen were getting into place…

“Deb!” I cried suddenly, grabbing Deb’s arm as Pandora ran over to give Syd a last-minute hug. “Do you know anything about a TV series with Pandora and Vic? Something he might have turned down?”

Deb’s eyes grew wide and she nodded. “Oh, sure,” she replied, the corners of her mouth turning up. “Pandora and Vic were such a popular couple on the show, the producers wanted to follow them around for a year while they dated—sort of a
Newlyweds
type thing, except they hoped without the breakup at the end!”

I nodded quickly. “But Vic said no?” I asked.

Deb nodded. “He did. Because right after their season of
Daredevils
wrapped, Vic met Syd and fell head over heels in love with her!” She giggled. “Isn’t that romantic! He turned down five hundred thousand dollars to star in that show with Pandora. But he listened to his heart.”

She paused, no doubt taking in my stunned, glassy-eyed expression. “Are you okay?”

“Places!” Donald cried, suddenly springing up out of nowhere to open the boathouse door. “Nancy! I need you in place!”

Out of the corner of my eye, I was vaguely aware of Bess and George shooting me confused looks as I walked back to my place in line—behind Pandora, in front of Syd.

He turned down $500,000.
Meaning that he’d kept her from getting that amount of money, too. Meaning that Pandora
did
have a reason to get revenge on Vic—even if they never had been a real couple.

Pandora turned and smiled at me. I’m not sure whether it was intentional, but it chilled my blood. I gripped my bouquet tight as Vivaldi’s “Spring” started playing and Bess began walking down the aisle.

No time to ask questions now,
I told myself as Pandora began walking, then me. We exited the boathouse, and 150 guests turned eagerly to watch us. Cameras flashed, the bright sunlight got in my eyes, and I could see Vic beaming as he watched us—and then his bride—walk down the aisle.

I just have to keep a close eye on her.