Nancy Clue Mysteries 2 - The Case of the Good-for-Nothing Girlfriend (35 page)

"Give those back," Terry demanded. "I believe they're mine."

"I don't think so," Lauren said in a smug tone. "Unless your name is Rebecca or Helen."

Terry flushed slightly. "My name is Terry," she said.

"Yes, I know," Lauren replied coolly. "You're that Navy Nurse who took Cherry's place. I know all about you," she said. "I know a lot of things."

"Like what?" Bess wanted to know. She whipped off her apron, put her hands on her round, shapely hips, and said in her best schoolmarm manner, "Stop beating around the bush, Lauren. What do you know?"

Lauren turned pale with alarm. She dropped the letters on the table. "I found these letters. They're from a girl named Helen, to someone named Rebecca. That's all I know. Honest."

Bess gasped when she read the envelope on the top of the stack. "They're not from a girl named Helen," she gasped in realization, "They're from Helen Clue, Nancy's attractive, spinster aunt. You know, Terry, she was a buyer for a big department store in New York. No one has seen her for years! She disappeared soon after Nancy's mother died."

"She must have written these to Nancy's mother," Terry said in amazement. "They were in-laws, and, by all accounts, good friends."

"More than good friends," Bess murmured after she had opened the top envelope, slid out the thin, yellowed paper and examined its contents. "It's a love letter, and it's signed, `Your One True Love, Helen,' " Bess gasped. "With a beautiful Robert Burns poem!

"These are so wonderful," Bess whispered as she gently slipped the letters out of the aged envelopes and read through them. "They were so in love," she sighed. "Right from the beginning.

"Lauren, why didn't you show us these earlier?"

"Every time I came downstairs, someone was yelling, so I beat it back upstairs," Lauren explained, adding, "They were taped to the bottom of a bureau drawer in the attic room."

"This is a real find," Bess praised the young girl. "You're some detective."

"And thorough," Terry noted. Lauren beamed with pride.

"But we're going to have to do something with that hair! " Bess exclaimed. Bess popped the steaks in the oven and turned down the soup. She took a pair of kitchen shears from a drawer, tied a towel around Lauren's neck, and sized up the job before her.

"We're going to have to cut it pretty short," she declared. "Lauren, what possessed you?"

"I thought it would look good," Lauren said weakly.

Bess set about tidying Lauren's sloppy hairdo. But after a few minutes of snipping, Lauren still looked like a ragamuffin.

"Let me try," Terry urged. "It's all uneven in back. Oops!" she cried. "I slipped. Sorry."

"Now you're going to have to cut the other side shorter," Bess instructed her.

"There's no saving this," Terry said as she chopped off all but an inch of Lauren's thick hair.

"It's severe, but awfully cute," Bess decided after surveying their young friend.

Lauren jumped up all excited and raced for the washroom. "It's really keen! " they heard her cry. She came racing back, running her hands through her hair. She had swiped some Butch Wax from Midge and was greasing back her short locks with the strong goo. "Do you think Velma will like it?" Lauren fretted.

Bess and Terry exchanged an amused glance. "I imagine she will," Bess replied. Actually, she was beginning to take a liking to the severe hairstyle herself. Oh, it wouldn't complement every face, but it showed off Lauren's boyish good looks to their best advantage. She was just about to tell her so when she heard the rattle of George's jalopy.

The three girls ran to the window and peered out. Was the girl in George's arms Nancy, or Hannah wearing the clever disguise? They hurriedly opened the front door so George could deliver her precious parcel to the couch. Bess could see that the plan had been a grand success, for fast asleep before her very eyes was the disguised but unmistakable figure of kindly housekeeper Hannah Gruel!

"Let's get Hannah upstairs and out of sight before anyone comes barging in here," Terry suggested. She sent Lauren to Hannah's bedroom at the back of the house for a flannel night gown, and helped George transport her patient upstairs.

"Terry's in charge of this case," Bess explained as they climbed the stairs to the attic room. She filled George in on Cherry's dramatic exit.

"Did you have a hard time convincing Hannah to make the switch?" Bess asked.

"Not after we secretly gave her a heaping dose of Valium," George grinned.

"I didn't hear that," Terry declared sternly. Then she smiled. "Now you two scoot-I've got a patient to attend to," she declared. "Lauren can be my aide for now, right Lauren? You look like you've got extremely capable hands. We're going to give Hannah a nice, soothing sponge bath." Lauren blushed happily under the attractive brunette's gaze. She helped Terry fill a basin with soapy water and stood ready with a terrycloth towel over one arm.

"Don't you have something for George?" Terry teased Bess.

Bess blushed. "Oh, honey, I'm so glad you're home!" she purred into George's ear as they left the room.

George grinned and gave Bess a little squeeze. "Me, too!" she admitted. "Jeepers, I held my breath all the way there, hoping this wild plan would work. I have something special in my pocket," George suddenly blurted out. It was a note for Cherry, and although George was unaware of its contents, she had a feeling it was very important! Why, Nancy had sealed it with a kiss and sprayed it with her favorite perfume before begging George to deliver it to Cherry.

Bess giggled and snuggled closer to George. "I missed you so much, well, I planned a big surprise for you," she whispered in George's ear as they descended the stairs to the second floor. "It's your favorite thing," she added coyly.

"Oh, Bess!" George cried. Her interest was definitely getting piqued!

"Perhaps I'd just better show you," Bess teased.

George grinned, grabbed Bess's hand, and pulled her toward Nancy's bedroom.

"No, in the kitchen, silly," Bess murmured.

"Okay," George grinned affably. "Wherever you want."

Terry heard George's cries of delight all the way up on the third floor.

"Swiss steak? My favorite!"

CHAPTER 43
Follow That Car!

"I hope somebody's having good luck tonight," Midge groaned as she took a sip of her tepid coffee. Midge, Velma, and Jackie had been sitting outside the police station for over an hour, hoping to catch a glimpse of the man they suspected of stealing Nancy's evidence, Chief Chumley himself! Although Jackie hadn't said anything to Nancy, she had confirmed Midge's suspicion that all trails led to Nancy's old colleague.

His deputies insisted the Chief was away on a fishing holiday, but the girls knew he was really hiding in his office. So they were parked under a birch tree down the street, waiting for him to make his exit. From where they sat, they had a clear view of the station house. Eagle-eyed Jackie had spotted the Chief's car parked nearby. "You can tell it's the Chief's car because it has the official Police Chief decal on the back window," she had pointed out. "That's a clear sign."

Jackie checked her sturdy detective's watch with its radium glow-in-the-dark dial that proved so useful in latenight stakeouts such as this. "It's just after eleven o'clock," she announced. "Hannah should be sound asleep in the attic room by now, while Nancy's getting ready to spend her first night behind bars."

"Poor Nancy," Velma mused. She touched Jackie's arm lightly. "I know you are engineering some romantic rendezvous with Cherry, but I'd advise you to wait until Nancy's out of jail. Don't judge a girl until you've walked a mile in her pumps. Same goes for you, honey," she turned to Midge.

Midge hung her head in mock shame.

"Cookies?" Velma offered, opening her purse for her two companions. The three girls sat for a minute, munching on coconut macaroons. Midge and Jackie were like two well-oiled springs set to go off at any moment.

"I know he's in there," Jackie grumbled. "I'm tempted to march right in and drag him out," she added angrily. "I am a cop, you know."

"Yeah, and if you go in there with a gun, they'll shoot first and ask questions later," Midge scowled. "Cigarette?" she offered. Jackie shrugged and took one. But she didn't light it. She just rolled it around in her hand.

Velma daintily wiped the crumbs from her lips and opened the glove box to shed some light on the scene. She handed her compact to Midge. "Hold this, babe, while I do my lips," she said. When Velma was satisfied that her shapely mouth was perfectly painted, she pulled her shoulder-length mane of thick black curly hair atop her head and gave herself a good looking over in the little round mirror. "Should I get one of those new short Italian haircuts?" she wondered aloud.

"Cherry looks awfully cute with her short hairdo! " Jackie enthused. "And since you two look so much alike, I'll bet you'd look great."

"Hrmph," Midge cleared her throat and shook her head. She handed Velma her compact.

"Then again, maybe it's not such a good idea," Jackie said.

"I wasn't asking you, babe," Velma said to Midge in a flirty tone. She looked at herself again in the compact mirror. "I'm sick of having to set my hair every day. You're lucky, Midge; a trip to the barber every week, and you're all set, while every day I have to wash and set and spray and tease... Wait! Who's that coming out of the police station now?" she cried. She had spotted something in her mirror!

The girls watched as a hunched-over figure wearing an old raincoat and a head scarf shuffled out of the station. In one hand was a mop, in the other, a bucket. "That must be the cleaning lady," Midge said. "The poor thing looks exhausted. Imagine having to clean police headquarters! Why, I'll bet they're pigs in there. Oops! Sorry, Jackie."

"They are pigs," Jackie assured her. "Why, where I work, you should see the mess the boys make! You'd think they were raised in a barn."

"I hate to interrupt," Velma said politely. "But if you two would stop chatting for one minute, I have something to say."

"What is it?" Midge and Jackie chorused.

"Follow that car!" Velma cried as she snapped her com pact shut, dropped it in her purse, and pointed excitedly in the direction of the Chief's automobile.

Midge and Jackie gasped, for the figure had jumped behind the wheel and was zooming off! And where the car had been parked was a pile of clothing-an old raincoat and a head scarf!

They tailed the car through downtown but lost it when it turned down a one-way alley with its siren-light flashing. The girls raced around the block, hoping to head it off, but were stuck at a light behind a slow-moving tow truck. Midge angrily hit the steering wheel with her fist.

"Where would he be going this time of night?" Velma wondered aloud.

"We know he's not going home," Midge said. "This map Bess drew of River Depths shows his residence is at the other end of town. Where does a police chief of a small town go at night?" Midge wondered aloud.

They checked the pool hall, both all-night diners, and the donut shop, but couldn't locate the Chief's car anywhere.

"Let's head for the red-light district. Maybe he's there, shaking down some girls," Jackie guessed. "The boys always find that good for a few laughs before going home to their wives and kids. My guess is head south a mile or two."

Midge followed Jackie's suggestion, and they were relieved when they spied the Chief's car parked next to a black and white paddy wagon outside a bar. She parked the car on the other side of the street and turned off the headlights.

"It's the Tin Tan Club!" Velma gasped. "That's where Cherry was headed. Oh no, I hope there's not a raid going on! "

They leapt out of the car and raced toward the club just as a chorus line of tall girls in sparkly dresses and dramatic beehive hairdos danced out the door, smack into a half dozen burly cops.

"Is that Cherry, doing the can-can?" Velma cried. "Look, right there in the middle of that line of dancing girls!"

A gorgeous blond girl outfitted in a slinky black cocktail dress and a tiara snatched a billy club away from one cop and smacked him over the head with it. Then she kicked him in the shins with her red stilettos.

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