My Deadly Valentine (5 page)

“I know,” Rosie said, frowning. “There goes Sweetheart Week. I could just cry.”

The girls exchanged looks of disappointment.

As they continued talking, Nancy went over and picked up Rosie's medical chart. The notes were written in a scrawl, but Nancy managed to decipher them. Rosie had a concussion and a fractured radius, a bone in the lower arm. The doctor had determined that she'd been struck by a “blunt object.”

“Is there anything else we can get you while we're here?” Trish offered.

When Rosie asked for some “real food,” Juanita, Brook, and Trish offered to run over to a nearby diner. While they made the trip, Nancy, Bess, and Kristin stayed with Rosie.

“Thank goodness you're going to be okay,” said Bess, trying to boost Rosie's spirits.

When Rosie glanced down at the cast on her arm, Nancy asked, “Do you remember who did this to you?”

“I never saw the person who attacked me,” Rosie explained. “I was in the student union, waiting for Fitz. He was in one of the offices, and I was standing in the lobby when everything went black. Someone must have hit me from behind.”

“Do you remember anything? Like being
dragged? Did you see hands, or a blunt weapon?” Nancy probed.

“Nothing.” Sadness darkened her brown eyes as she looked up at Nancy. “The police were here this morning. They asked me that, too. They told me that you found me outside, but I have no idea how I got there.”

“When you entered the union, was there anyone else around?” Nancy continued.

Rosie frowned. “I think there was a group in the pit, and the lights were on in the snack bar. But I didn't see anyone come into the lobby itself while I was there.” She paused. “Of course, I
was
looking at the bulletin board.”

Kristin came to Rosie's side. “Nancy's investigating the attack. She's a detective.”

“Really?” Rosie's eyes widened. “I could use your help. Somebody really did a number on me. And from the sound of that note the police read to me, I could be in for even more trouble!”

“You're safe for now,” Kristin told Rosie, “at least while you're in the hospital.”

“But the person who attacked me—that Cupid—has to be stopped,” Rosie insisted.

“Do you have any idea who would want to hurt you?” Nancy asked.

“Sure,” Rosie said. “Tamara Carlson. And it burns me up to think that she'll be presiding over the Sweetheart Ball while I'm lying here in a hospital bed.”

Nancy was surprised by Rosie's vehemence.
“Do you think Tamara is strong enough to do this to you?”

“She's a cheerleader, someone who's in good shape,” Rosie pointed out.

“What about Casey?” Nancy suggested. “He was pretty mad when you broke up with him. . . .”

“I don't think Casey would hurt me,” Rosie said. “The person who knocked me out wanted to get rid of the Emerson Sweetheart.” She touched her neck reflexively, then frowned. “My Sweetheart locket,” she said. “It's gone!”

“Maybe the nurses took it off when you were admitted,” Nancy said.

“I'll go check,” Bess volunteered, ducking out of the room. A moment later, she returned with the nurse.

“What's this about missing jewelry?” the nurse asked. She checked Rosie's chart, then shook her head. “I didn't think so. You weren't wearing a locket when you came in, Rosie. We would have removed it when we took X-rays, but there's no record of it. Sorry.”

“Maybe it fell off when you were dragged,” Bess suggested. “Maybe we'll come across it if we search around the student union.”

And if we find it, maybe the locket will lead us to Rosie's attacker, Nancy thought.

• • •

By the time the girls returned to campus, Nancy was eager to tour the student union.
Rosie's story about the attack had confirmed Fitz's version, and now Nancy wanted to check out the area where it had occurred.

It was nearly three when Nancy, Bess, and Kristin entered the lobby of the student union.

As they passed the bookstore, Kristin said, “I've got to work on my valentine for the auction. I've been procrastinating too long.”

“I'd like to start mine, too,” Bess said. “I saw some supplies this morning that would be absolutely perfect.” She turned to Nancy and asked, “Do you mind if we leave you on your own for the tour of the building?”

“No problem,” Nancy said. “Go work on your valentines. I'll meet you back at the Theta Pi house.”

As the two girls disappeared into the bookstore, Nancy turned toward the pit. There, two televisions blared, one tuned to a soap opera, the other to a news program. The sofas and chairs had been claimed by students who were studying, talking, or napping between classes.

Stepping down into the lounge, Nancy went toward a campus phone. She dialed the union office and spoke to Fitz.

“I'll be right up,” Fitz said. Five minutes later he appeared, a wide smile on his face. “I just spoke to Rosie,” he said. “She sounds a little down but was happy to see you guys. Too bad she didn't see who hit her.”

Nancy nodded. “That's why I'm here. I've
visited Emerson before, so I'm familiar with the general layout of this building. What I'd really like is a behind-the-scenes tour.”

“An inside look . . .” Fitz said thoughtfully. “Well, I wouldn't do this for just
anybody.
But since you're a friend of the Theta Pis, I can't say no.”

“Thanks,” Nancy said, studying Fitz as they went down the ramp that cut through the center of the building.

“The weirdest thing about the student union is that the main entrance is on the top floor,” Fitz explained. “The architects designed it that way since the building sort of leans into the hill.”

On the floor below the main entrance, Fitz took Nancy through the laundromat, the student bank, and an old-fashioned candy store filled with glass jars of hard candies, chocolates, and licorice.

“Some of the student organizations also have offices on this floor,” Fitz explained. He showed Nancy the suite used by Emerson's newspaper staff and the large student government office.

“When you and Rosie came into the building last night, did you notice anyone else around?” Nancy asked.

“It was pretty empty,” Fitz said. He thought for a moment, then snapped his fingers. “Wait a second! When I passed by the snack bar on my way down to the office I think I saw Tamara Carlson and her boyfriend.”

“Really?” Nancy was intrigued. “Did you speak with her?”

“No way. She and Rosie can't stand each other.”

So Tamara was near the scene of the crime, Nancy thought. That's why she'd apparently made up an alibi.

When they descended the ramp to the ground floor, Nancy's senses were on alert. If Rosie had been dragged to the garden behind the union, it was likely that her attacker had taken her this way.

Fitz walked her through the large banquet room that was used for parties and dances. “This is where the Sweetheart Ball will be held on Saturday,” he explained.

Two meeting rooms, each with a large conference table and more than a dozen chairs, and a kitchen were connected to the banquet hall. After walking through them, they returned to the bottom of the ramp.

“When I came down here, I went into the night manager's office, right there,” Fitz said, leading Nancy to a narrow corridor on the far side of the ramp. It was lined with four doors. At the end of the hall, Nancy noticed a metal door.

Just then one of the doors along the hall opened, and a young woman peeked out and smiled. “Fitz! I was just going to page you on the intercom. You've got a call on line three.”

“I'll be right back,” he told Nancy, then followed the woman into the union office.

Glad for the time alone, Nancy looked at the metal door. This could be the way Rosie's attacker had left the building. It didn't seem likely to Nancy that whoever it was would have dragged her all the way around outside.

She spun around, trying to figure out which side of the building the garden backed up to. Following the hall to its end, she pushed open the metal door and peered inside.

The wide, short corridor beyond had an unfinished look, with a cement floor and two battered doors leading off it. The first one connected to a loading dock large enough to accommodate two trucks. Although it was now deserted, Nancy guessed that it was used to bring in food and supplies.

A second door led to a dark, windowless room where a huge, square furnace rumbled. Stepping inside, Nancy knew she'd hit pay dirt. The floor of the boiler room was smeared with a black soot thrown off by the furnace. As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she could see the rectangular shape of a door on the opposite wall. She'd be willing to bet that door opened to the garden.

Rosie must have been dragged through this room after the attack!

On her right, Nancy noticed a workbench built into the cinder block wall. Careful not to touch anything, she looked over the wrenches and tools
hanging on the wall and strewn on the counter-top. Among the clutter she found a roll of electrical tape. That alone was not surprising. But when she came to an operating manual for the furnace, she quickly leafed through it and gasped. Part of one page had been torn out! The note pinned to Rosie's coat had been written on a scrap of paper torn from this booklet.

Had Rosie been attacked by someone on the staff of the building?

Just then the room seemed to shake as the furnace roared to life. Time to get out of here, Nancy thought. She needed to tell Dean Jarvis about her discoveries.

Nancy was about to turn away from the workbench when something caught her eye. Glimmering in the light of the furnace was a large wrench. Nancy was able to make out two strands of brown hair stuck to its rounded head. Was this the weapon used on Rosie?

Suddenly a beefy hand closed over her wrist, and Nancy let out a shriek. She spun around and found herself pinned to the worktable by a big man with smoldering eyes.

S
TUNNED,
N
ANCY TRIED
to step aside, but the large man held her arms back in a tight grasp. “Not so fast!”

Nancy's heart pounded madly as she stared into the man's grim, piercing eyes. The smell of sweat and soot threatened to overpower her as she tried to make out his face. The light from the furnace gave the angles of his jaw a hard look. Was this the man who had attacked Rosie?

“What're you doing in here?”

Fighting to appear calm, Nancy answered, “I was just touring the building—with Fitz. I guess I went through the wrong door.”

“This place is off-limits to students,” the man growled, releasing her arms at last.

Just then the door opened behind him, and
Fitz appeared, silhouetted in the light from the hallway. “Nancy? Max, what's going on?”

Max pointed at Nancy. “I came in to check the gauges on the furnace, and I found this girl wandering around. Keep your girlfriends out of my boiler room,” he ordered, then pushed past Fitz into the hallway.

“Wait a second, Max! She's not my girl—” But the man didn't stop or slow down.

“Who is he?” Nancy asked.

“Max Dombrowski. He's on the maintenance staff, and among other things he takes care of the boiler,” Fitz answered, turning back to Nancy. “He sure was in a rotten mood.”

“Probably because I found some evidence that might implicate him as Rosie's attacker,” Nancy said, glancing back at the workbench.

“Max? No way!” Fitz shook his head.

“Was he on duty last night?” she asked.

“Yeah, though I don't remember seeing him around,” Fitz said. “But what kind of evidence did you find?”

Nancy showed him the tape and furnace manual, then pointed to the door. “Where does that exit lead?” she asked.

“To the garden. But it's locked from the outside,” Fitz explained. “Is that important?”

“Absolutely,” Nancy said. “In fact, if you show me the nearest phone, I'll call Dean Jarvis. He'll probably want to check out this room.”

Within minutes the dean arrived at the student union. He was joined by Sergeant Weinberg and another officer from the local police, who brought a forensic kit to collect evidence.

Fitz seemed surprised that a wrench and a furnace manual could stir up so much interest. After the investigators arrived, he was called out to the loading docks to oversee a delivery.

Nancy watched as the officers put the wrench, tape, and booklet in plastic bags. “We'll confirm that they match our other evidence and check them for prints,” Sergeant Weinberg explained. “But all in all, it looks like the victim was brought into this room.”

With high-powered flashlights, they searched the soot-covered floor and discovered tracks leading out the door. After they photographed the drag marks, Nancy followed the officers through the steel door leading to the garden. She circled the stone fountain.