Shadow of a Doubt (8 page)

“What good would it do Gleason to have another copy of the evidence that had sent him to jail?”

“But you said that Gleason practically begged you for a copy, right?” Nancy asked Cheryl.

The girl nodded sadly. “And—this is the worst part—he asked me to delete the file from the system. He said that he didn't want anyone else getting their hands on what he had.” She moaned. “I can't believe I did it. If it was really that important, I probably did the worst thing someone with my job could ever do. It's like destroying evidence.”

Nancy saw her father flinch. “Can you remember anything else about the file?” she asked.

“Nothing. I've told you everything I know.” She picked up her purse and smiled.

Nancy studied Cheryl for a moment. Her mood had changed a lot from the scared girl who had been sitting there just a few minutes ago. Now she seemed in control, almost relieved.

“I'm really glad I told you about all this,” Cheryl said. “But as I said, if anyone finds out I could lose my job. So—”

“I'm not going to tell anyone,” Nancy assured her. “Thanks for your help.”

Nancy let Cheryl out and watched as she got in her car. Carson was standing in the living room when she came back inside.

“I know what you're going to say,” Nancy said. “That I shouldn't have done what I did. But I couldn't just stand by and do nothing.”

“Nancy,” Carson said. “From now on, you do have to leave this alone. The district attorney will take care of it.”

“You're right.” Nancy reached into the hall closet for her coat.

“Where are you going now?” Carson asked.

“Don't look so suspicious,” Nancy said with a smile. “I promised George I'd meet her.” She put on her coat, gave her father a peck on the cheek, and left the house.

She hadn't promised George at all. But as Nancy started her rental car, she didn't stop to think about it. She wanted to follow Cheryl. There was something wrong here, and she was going to find out what it was.

She picked out Cheryl's car as it turned the corner. After a few minutes Nancy realized that Cheryl was driving in the direction of Robert Gleason's apartment. Sure enough, Cheryl stopped her car right in front of the building.

Nancy waited a minute for Cheryl to get
inside, then followed her upstairs. She listened outside Gleason's apartment. There were voices inside—a man's and Cheryl's.

“It's got to be here somewhere,” Nancy heard the man say. There was the sound of furniture being moved and scraped over the floor. Suddenly Cheryl was shouting, and Nancy heard glass breaking.

There wasn't any time to waste. Nancy turned the knob and pushed against the door. It moved only a couple of inches. The door was being held by a light chain.

Cheryl's voice and the man's grew louder, and Nancy could tell their fight was becoming heated.

Nancy nudged her shoulder up against the door and pushed up and in at the same time with one great burst. The chain popped. Nancy stepped in. What she saw made her freeze for a second.

Chris Gleason had Cheryl Pomeroy up against the wall. His hands were moving up toward her throat.

It looked as if he was going to strangle her!

S
TOP
!” N
ANCY CRIED
. Chris was so startled that he dropped his hands and took a step back.

He tripped over Nancy, who had rushed up to him, and landed flat on his back. From a seated position, he glared up at her before pulling himself to his feet.

“You'll be sorry,” he said in a flat, ominous tone. Then, before Nancy could stop him, he ran out of the apartment, slamming the door behind him.

“Are you okay?” Nancy asked Cheryl.

Cheryl rubbed her throat and took a deep breath. “I think so.”

Nancy ran to the window in time to see Chris climb into his car. Within a few seconds, he had his headlights on and was speeding off.

Cheryl ran over to Nancy, pulled back the curtain, and watched as the red taillights winked out on Chris's car as he sped down the deserted street.

“I don't know what's happened to him,” she said, bursting into tears. “I've never seen him like this before. He seems to be possessed!”

Was there something going on between Cheryl Pomeroy and Chris Gleason? Nancy wondered.

“Are you and Chris dating?” Nancy asked, searching Cheryl's face.

Cheryl nodded silently. She turned and stared out the window; then, with a sigh, she started talking.

“He made me promise not to tell you,” she said softly. “He said I shouldn't trust you. That's what got him so angry—that I went to see you.”

Nancy drew in a sharp breath. “He was going to attack you just because you visited me?” she asked gently.

“As I said, he's changed a lot. But I don't think he would have actually hurt me.” Nancy saw uncertainty pass over Cheryl's clear gray eyes. “He used to be such a nice guy, but now he's gotten so serious. Maybe it's because of his father. I don't know. But I can't keep any of
this to myself anymore. Oh, Nancy, what should I do?”

Nancy reached over and put an arm around Cheryl's shoulders. “I'm sure he's going through a tough time,” she said. “Everything will work out.”

“You think so?” Cheryl's face brightened.

“I do,” Nancy answered.

“I hope you're right, because he's the reason I helped Robert Gleason.”

Nancy knew she should have guessed. The case was getting more complicated by the minute.

“Now he doesn't seem to care about what I've already done for him,” Cheryl went on breathlessly. “He just keeps asking me more and more questions. What was in the file. Can't I get another copy. He won't let up.” The story was spilling out of Cheryl. “I'm telling you, he's driving me crazy!”

“I'll bet he is,” Nancy said sympathetically. She didn't want Cheryl to stop now. Finally, she felt she was getting some real clues. “You feel as if he's using you,” she said.

“Exactly,” Cheryl said. “And he won't let go of this thing. He says he's convinced that someone killed his dad for that evidence. He says that if he can just find it, he'll prove his father was innocent. But in the back of my mind I wonder if he isn't after money, too.”

“What makes you think that?” Nancy felt herself getting close to what was making Chris Gleason act so crazy.

“Because he went to visit Dennis Allard and because I know his mother doesn't have much,” Cheryl said. “He had to drop out of college because he couldn't afford it. Now he's working as a foreign-car mechanic, and all he talks about is how important it is to find the money.”

“Cheryl, I do think I have to agree with you. Chris Gleason may not care as much about his father's innocence as he claims.”

A look of fear spread over Cheryl's face. “I know what you're thinking. You're thinking that Chris cares about nothing
but
the money. But he isn't like that. I know he wants to prove his dad innocent, too.”

“But he is definitely on the trail of the missing money, and he is using us to help him find it,” Nancy said.

Cheryl put her hands over her ears, as if she were blocking out Nancy's words. “I don't believe he's using me,” she said desperately.

Nancy could see that Cheryl was too confused to think clearly. It couldn't be easy to face those kinds of facts about a guy you cared about a lot. Nancy decided to go easy.

“Okay.” She paused, thinking. “Let's say Chris cares most about proving his father innocent, and he's only trying to find the
money because he thinks that will help set the record straight.”

“I'm sure that's it,” Cheryl said quickly. “I know Chris, and I think that that's what's going on in his mind.”

“Then what you've got to do is convince him that I'm really on his side and want to help him,” Nancy said. “Can you do that?”

“I don't think it'll be easy, but I'll try,” Cheryl said slowly.

“Good. And from now on, you've got to be honest with me.” Nancy put her hands on Cheryl's shoulders and looked her straight in the eye. “Otherwise, we're never going to get to the bottom of this,” she concluded.

After seeing Cheryl to her car, Nancy stood on the curb and thought for a moment. If Chris Gleason was doing his own investigating, his sister might very well know something about it. There was no guarantee that Kate would tell her anything, but Nancy had to talk to her.

Within a few minutes of checking the Gleasons' address in a phone book, Nancy was pulling up in front of a nondescript house in a small town just outside of River Heights.

She rang the doorbell. Kate Gleason came to the door wearing jeans and a sweatshirt. When she saw Nancy, she didn't look happy.

Nancy sighed. She was beginning to get tired of Kate Gleason's attitude, but she had to try to work around it somehow.

“I'm sorry to bother you,” she said politely. “But I have to ask you a few questions about your brother.”

“Well, you can't come in,” Kate said, flipping her hair behind her ears. “My mother is still upset about my dad, and she doesn't want visitors. What do you want to know?” she asked, stepping onto the porch and closing the door.

“Why didn't either of you tell me that Chris was dating Cheryl Pomeroy?” Nancy asked.

In the yellow porch light Nancy watched Kate's eyes narrow. “I don't see what that has to do with anything. My brother can go out with whomever he wants,” she challenged.

“Of course he can,” Nancy admitted calmly. “But when the person he's dating also happens to have given important evidence to his father, I think it's relevant, don't you?” she asked.

“Look, Nancy. I don't know what you're talking about. Chris and Cheryl have been going together since their senior year in high school. What they do is their business—”

Kate stopped short. The significance of what Nancy had told her must have sunk in. “What do you mean, Cheryl gave my father important evidence?” she asked.

“She told me she did.” Briefly, Nancy told Kate about her visit to Mobley and Myerson and what had happened since then.

“So,” she concluded, “there seems to be a
lot your brother's not telling you or anyone else.”

Kate thought for a moment. “I don't get it. What you're telling me just isn't like Chris. He's been a little aloof lately, but I thought it was because of what happened to our dad.”

“It may be,” Nancy said. “But I told Cheryl that as far as I'm concerned, Chris's actions seem just the least bit dishonest, not to mention suspicious.” Nancy tried to be as gentle as she could with what could appear to be an accusation.

Her tactic didn't work. Kate bristled. “If you came here to ask me to spy on my brother, you can forget it. As far as I'm concerned he's doing what he can to find out what my father knew before he died. Nothing more and nothing less.”

“Then why isn't he letting you in on it?” Nancy challenged.

Kate paused. “I don't know,” she said finally. Then she changed the subject. “Hey, I thought you were on our side.”

“I'm trying to be,” Nancy said. There didn't seem to be any way to convince the girl.

“Sure, by coming here with accusations. As far as I can tell, you haven't found out what really happened to my father,” she snapped.

“You two aren't really helping me,” Nancy said, exasperated.

“Right,” Kate said. “I should try to help you
get my brother into trouble. Why don't you just leave us alone now? We'll manage just fine without you, Nancy Drew.” With that, Kate stepped back inside and slammed the door shut.

Great, Nancy thought as she got back in her car. The Gleason kids are my only lead and now they think I want to get them into trouble.

Nancy was driving home, thinking about all the dead ends she had run into, when she decided to go back over the most important clue of all—the date book she'd found at Gleason's apartment. The only lead she really had was sitting at home in her desk drawer, and she hadn't looked at it since the first day.

Nancy rushed home. The date book wasn't going to disappear, but she was in a hurry to study it again.

She was letting herself in the front door when Carson appeared in the hallway.

“Nancy, I've been thinking—” he began.

“Dad, I'm really tired. Can it wait until morning?” Nancy faked a yawn. Her mind was already poring over the pages of Gleason's date book. Besides, she didn't want to have to get into a discussion with her father about what she had been doing at Edward Vaughn's office or at Mobley and Myerson.

“I want to talk to you a minute, please.” Carson put out his hand to stop her. “After you left, reporters started calling,” he said.
Nancy let out a gasp. “It's okay,” Carson went on. “I'm fine.”