Kiss and Tell (13 page)

“In the kitchen.” Sam followed Nancy into the kitchen. Within a minute, Nancy was on the phone with Esme, asking her about Pia.

“It's so strange that I didn't remember Pia,” Esme said. “I wrote that part of the book a while ago, so the details weren't fresh in my mind. Besides, it's been ten years since I saw her.”

“Why would Pia have a reason to hold a grudge against you?” Nancy asked. “A reason to seek revenge?”

“Pia and I met in a writers' workshop,” Esme said. “We worked together for a year, but our collaboration didn't work out. I understand that she never succeeded on her own. We didn't keep in touch after we parted. Why would she do this now?”

“I'm not sure,” said Nancy. “We're going to follow this lead. I'll let you know what turns up.”

Nancy hung up with Esme and related their conversation to Sam. “This is a hot lead,” said Sam. “I'll get an address on Pia and we can check it out.”

By the time Nancy and Sam left Sam's apartment, the light was fading from the clear February sky. It was only four-thirty, but it would soon be completely dark. Nancy realized then that they didn't have much time before Esme's ball. In all the excitement, she'd completely forgotten about the party, which was scheduled to begin at six with cocktails, and then continue on through the night with dinner and dancing.

“I hope Pia's the one,” said Nancy, watching the sun fade from the sky. “Wouldn't it be great if we could walk into Esme's Valentine's Day ball with the news that we've caught her attacker?”

“It would,” Sam agreed. “But let's not count on it. We still need to find evidence to prove our hunch.”

On their way across town, Nancy's excitement grew. She had a feeling Pia was the one; all the pieces were starting to fall into place. Pia must have harbored a grudge against Esme, one that she had nursed for many years. Now, she was enacting her revenge. The questions were: Why now? Where would it end? And could Nancy and Sam stop her before she struck again?

Ten minutes later Sam was pulling up in front of a nondescript two-story house with faded blue paint peeling in places. The driveway was empty and the lights were out inside.

“Good,” said Sam, cutting the ignition. “No one's home to keep us company.” He leaned back in the seat, obviously settling in for a wait.

“Let's go in,” Nancy said. She opened the car
door and was about to get out when Sam put his hand on her shoulder and drew her back inside.

“Is that how you do it, Drew?” he asked, grinning.

“A lot of the time there's an open door or window. That's not breaking and entering,” Nancy explained. “That's letting yourself in and waiting for the owner to return so you can speak to her.”

“I see,” said Sam. He seemed to consider Nancy's reasoning for a moment. Then he clicked open his own door and said, “If anyone asks, I wasn't here, I didn't see anything, and I don't even know you.”

“Right,” said Nancy. And that wasn't a kiss you gave me earlier, either, she thought, wobbly in the knees from the memory. She'd call Ned as soon as she got home and confess to him everything about Sam, including the kiss. Well, maybe not the kiss, but everything else.

At the back of the house Nancy found a door that opened to her touch. “Bingo,” she said. “Come on in.”

“I shouldn't be doing this,” Sam said, stepping inside. “I really shouldn't be doing this.”

“I won't tell,” Nancy said. She pushed him through the door and followed.

They were standing in a laundry area. Through the open door, Nancy saw a kitchen, then the living room beyond. Moving carefully through Pia's dark house, Nancy quickly found the bedroom.

“I'll look in here,” she said to Sam, who stood in the doorway between the living room and the kitchen. “You take the living room.”

“Giving orders again, I see,” Sam said with a smile. He saluted, and said, “Yes, ma'am.”

“And don't disturb any evidence,” Nancy warned him with a smile. “But I guess I don't have to tell you that.”

“You must be used to working with amateurs,” Sam joked. “I've got one question for you, Drew.”

“Shoot—” said Nancy.

“If you do this so often, why haven't
you
gone to jail?” asked Sam.

Nancy smiled and shrugged. “Just lucky, I guess.” Then she went into the bedroom to begin her search.

Half an hour later Nancy had discovered a trove of evidence against Pia. First, she found file boxes in the closet that were full of clippings about Esme—nothing too incriminating there, Nancy thought, except you had to wonder why someone would collect enough information about the romance writer to put together a biography of the woman. Next, Nancy saw a man's trench coat hanging in the closet. Then, behind the file box, she spotted a dying poinsettia plant with half its leaves cut off. Beside the plant was a book titled
Deadly Doses: The Amateur's Guide to Poisons.
That's when Nancy called out to Sam.

“I think you should come in here,” Nancy
cried out. Using a handkerchief to pick up the book, Nancy noticed a bookmark at a page describing poinsettias, along with a list of other necessary ingredients. “Check it out,” Nancy said to Sam when he came into the half-dark room.

Sam took the book from her. After scanning the page and the list, he let out a low whistle. “The toxicology report says the poinsettia leaves were masked with spearmint. And here it is, right on Pia's list: spearmint leaves.” Holding the book with his left hand, Sam handed a slip of paper to Nancy with his right.

“It's a receipt from a specialty pet store,” Nancy said, barely able to make out the writing.

“For a black widow spider,” Sam informed her. “What do you think of that?”

“I think we've got enough evidence here to put Pia away for a long time,” Nancy said.

“I don't need to remind you that first we'll need a legal search warrant,” Sam replied in a mock serious tone.

“I know that,” Nancy replied, feeling a bit defensive. “I guess you could really get in trouble for being here,” she said. “I'm sorry.”

“Hey,” said Sam, “I accept full responsibility. Besides, I wouldn't be the first guy to lose his head over a girl, would I?”

“I guess not.” Even in the dark, Nancy could feel herself blushing. Alone in Pia's dark house and excited at the thought of cracking the case, Nancy found herself wishing her life wasn't so
complicated and that she hadn't put off Sam so strongly back at his place. But the sound of a key in the front door quickly snapped Nancy out of her reverie.

“Pia!” Sam announced, peeking out the bedroom window to the street. “Quick, hide!”

Before Nancy could react, Sam was scuttling under Pia's bed. Nancy realized it was the safest hiding place and found she had no choice but to follow. A moment later her nose was full of dust, Sam's elbow was poking into her side, and Pia's ankles were visible as the woman walked into the bedroom and headed for a closet. Nancy could hear her rummaging around, and then detected what sounded like the chamber of a revolver being spun around, checked, and then clicked into place.

She's got a gun! Nancy wanted to shout to Sam. They couldn't be sure, but if Nancy was right, Esme's life could be in serious danger.

Pia walked toward the door again, stopping momentarily by the bed. Now her feet were facing Nancy, and Nancy saw Pia was wearing what looked like men's shoes and cuffed pants. The whole time, Pia had been dressing like a man to put Nancy and Sam off her track. That was why she wore the trench coat, the man's hat. The planning that had gone into Pia's revenge sent a chill through Nancy, made worse by the fact that Pia was standing next to the bed. If she discovered that Nancy and Sam were hiding right by her feet . . .

Pia didn't find them, though. A moment later she left the bedroom, and Nancy heard the sound of the front door closing. She waited five seconds, then crawled out from under the bed and raced to the window. There Pia was getting into a late-model sedan. Sam was out from under the bed by now and beside Nancy at the window.

“She's going after Esme, I just know it!” Nancy cried. “We've got to stop her.”

P
IA WAS PULLING AWAY
from the curb. Urgently, Nancy held on to Sam's arm and dragged him from the room. “We've got to follow her. I'm sure she's going to the Barrington. Pia's got to know about Esme's ball tonight. What better way to get to Esme, finally, than to ruin her ultimate party?”

Sam was looking out the front door now, careful not to be seen by Pia. “She's at the end of the block,” he told her. “Come on. Let's go!”

Nancy followed Sam at a run out to his car. Sam had the engine started before Nancy was even inside. “You
are
impatient,” she said with a smile as she slammed the door. “Just be sure you're not so eager that Pia knows we're behind her.”

“Please,” said Sam, peeling away from the curb
with a squeal of rubber. “I've got a bit of experience, as you know.”

“I figured,” said Nancy, her excitement rising. The chase was on! She was sitting in the passenger seat for once, able to enjoy the ride. Maybe she could get used to having an equal for a partner. Maybe it was a good thing—or a great thing—that she and Sam worked well together. If that were true, then maybe it would also be better not to be involved, to keep their relationship professional.

“Earth to Nancy,” Sam said. “Beam in, Nancy.” He held his hand to his mouth as if it were a microphone. “Suspect is in sight. Detective is out to lunch.”

“Sorry.” Nancy laughed. “It's so unlike me to have my mind wander like this.”

“I think I understand,” said Sam, taking a hard turn that made Nancy lean into him. Both of Sam's hands remained steady on the steering wheel, but Nancy could remember what it felt like to be touched by him. “Everything will work out,” Sam reassured her. “Maybe this is one situation you can't think your way through. Maybe you'll just have to let your heart lead you.”

“Telling me not to think is like telling me not to breathe,” Nancy said, laughing. “Look out. Pia's taking that left.”

The light went from green to yellow as Sam swung through it, his tires squealing and his shocks bouncing. “You know where we're going, don't you?” Sam asked.

Nancy nodded. “I have a pretty good idea.” The sun had set and the streetlights were on as they headed from Pia's neighborhood toward downtown. Nancy looked at her watch. “It's six o'clock. Esme's ball should be starting any minute.”

“True,” said Sam. “So what's her plan?”

Nancy shivered, her eyes riveted to Pia's late-model sedan a few cars ahead of them. “I hate to think. Whatever it is, I'm sure Esme's in danger.”

Pia led them through the busy downtown streets, until they were just a few blocks from the Barrington. In fact, the hotel was in sight when Pia went through a light as it changed from yellow to red. Sam had to screech to a stop at the light, while Pia cruised through.

“Rats!” Sam said, pounding the steering wheel. “Now she's got a head-start on us. What if we lose her?”

“We won't,” said Nancy. She knew Pia would head for Esme's room. From there, she didn't know exactly what to expect. As she waited for the light to turn green again, Nancy bit on a fingernail, trying not to imagine the worst.

Sam inched out into traffic. The crosstown light was just turning yellow, and Nancy could see Sam resisting the urge to go through the red light.

“Go!” Nancy shouted as soon as the light turned green.

Pia was long gone. Sam raced toward the
Barrington's front entrance and threw the keys at the valet.

Inside, they raced for the elevators and caught a glimpse of Pia as the doors to one elevator closed.

“There she is!” Nancy cried out. “I knew it. She's headed for Esme's room. Come on!”

Another elevator appeared, and Nancy pushed her way onto it. To her dismay, the elevator proceeded to stop at every floor to let someone either on or off, and it felt like forever before she and Sam reached Esme's floor.

“Talk about impatient,” Sam whispered, his eyes on Nancy's tapping foot.

“We could have walked faster,” Nancy whispered back.

Finally they were getting off on the sixth floor. Nancy raced down the hall toward Esme's suite. What she saw there made her stop dead.

Pia had Esme in her grip. The romance writer was dressed in a full-length red gown, ready for her ball. The expression in her green eyes was one of pure terror. In a flash, Nancy realized why: Pia had a silver-barreled gun and was holding it at Esme's side.

“Nancy!” Esme cried when she spotted her. “Help me, please!”

Pia's face contorted into an expression of anger and frustration. “No one's going to help you this time,” she spat at Esme. “Can't you see that you're going to have to come clean, finally?”