Moving Target (2 page)

“Packard Hall is the closest dorm. We can cut across here,” Ned said, pointing. “There's a phone in the lobby.”

Nancy ran on ahead and within minutes had alerted the Emersonville police to the burglary. By the time George and Ned reached the building, the alarm had gone out to cars in the area.

“I'll bet it's the same guy who pulled the other robberies around town,” Ned told them as they sat in the lounge, which, typically for a dorm on a Friday night, was almost deserted. “He's really clever. He pulls just one robbery a week—although come to think of it, if it's the same guy, he pulled two robberies this week, one on Monday or Tuesday night that didn't get reported until”—he hesitated—“Wednesday, I think, when the people came home. The guy only hits in the rich areas of town, and always when the owners are away. The papers are full of it. People are buying alarm systems like they're pizzas. He only takes jewels or cash, and none of the jewels
have shown up in local pawnshops. The police think he's working with an out-of-town fence.”

“The officer I talked to said they had two cars in the area. He thought they might have a chance of getting him this time,” Nancy said. “He said the other burglaries weren't even discovered until the following day.”

The phone in the lobby rang, and the student who answered it peered into the lounge.

“Call for Nancy Drew,” she said.

The call was brief. When Nancy came back into the large room, it was apparent from her expression that the news was good.

“They've got him!” she said. “One of the cars picked him up two blocks from campus.” She gave Ned and George a wide grin. “He was easy to recognize. He was the only motorcycle rider in the area who was wearing cold spaghetti.”

“Way to go, Nan!” George said, laughing.

Ned laughed, too.

Nancy turned to Ned. “I have to go down to headquarters,” she said.

“I'll drive you,” he offered. “My car's close. I'll cut through the back way to the parking lot and meet you out in front.”

“Thanks,” Nancy said. “I'll get George some ice for her knee and meet you in a few minutes.”

George had sprawled out on one of the couches in the room and had her leg propped up. “You're okay, Nancy Drew,” she said with mock seriousness.
“I'm not sure I could walk from here to the kitchen. It was that after-dinner run that did it!”

Nancy grinned at her and returned in a few minutes with a towel filled with ice cubes. “Some insurance for tomorrow's ride,” she said, handing it to George.

“Thanks,” said George. “I'll wait here till you get back.” She motioned toward the TV set near the couch. “Maybe I'll catch the sports roundup. Besides, I want to hear all the details—especially about my spaghetti.”

• • •

When Nancy and Ned reached the police station, they waited a long time in Lieutenant Easterling's office, while the president's sister identified some of the jewelry that had been taken. Finally Nancy was called in to give her statement.

Lieutenant Easterling was a big man with a soft voice and a kind face. Nancy had worked with him before, and he greeted her like an old friend.

“Are you going to be in town over the weekend, Nancy?” he asked her when she had finished giving her statement.

“No, I'm going on a bike trip. I won't be back till late Monday,” Nancy explained.

“Well, we probably won't need you again,” he said, although his voice sounded uncertain.

“When I get back to the dorm, I can call you and let you know our itinerary,” she added just
in case. “You can reach me by phone when we stop for the night.”

“Fair enough,” Lieutenant Easterling said. “And, Nancy, thanks. This was a big break for our department. I'm glad you were around.”

Nancy and Ned walked back out to his car. It was late, the evening was gone, and they'd hardly had a chance to say two words to each other.

“How about a cup of coffee and a piece of pie?” Ned asked as they got into the car.

“Coffee sounds great,” said Nancy. “Pie sounds impossible on top of that dinner.”

“Not for me,” said Ned, putting the key into the ignition. “I've heard that Ed's Diner makes the best pie in town. Let's go. Maybe we'll have a chance to meet Jennifer Bover before tomorrow.”

Nancy looked at her watch. “Depending on when her shift ends, we could even give her a lift back to the dorm. Kendra said Jennifer was living in Packard.”

Ned drove through the quiet, darkened streets away from the campus toward the highway. “I hear that Ed's Diner is popular with truckers,” he said, as they left the residential area. “A lot of them swing off the freeway so they can eat there.”

“Then the food must be good,” Nancy said.

Once they were on the highway, it was only a short drive to the diner. Nancy pointed up ahead at a flashing neon sign. “There it is.”

Ned pulled into a parking space in front of Ed's Diner, and the couple went inside. The place was bigger than it appeared from the outside, and business was brisk, even at that late hour. The worn padded booths, taped in places to hide the cracks in the vinyl coverings, clearly announced that this was an eating place that had been around for a long time.

Nancy slipped into an empty booth near the cash register, and Ned seated himself opposite her.

“I wonder which one is Jennifer,” Nancy said, looking around at the three waitresses who were hustling to fill orders.

The cashier, who was also doing hostess duties, finally appeared at their table with two coffee mugs in one hand and a steaming pot of coffee in the other.

“Sorry you had to wait,” she said. “We're shorthanded tonight, and the place has been cracklin' like a house afire! Coffee?” She was a short woman, about twenty pounds overweight, and had sparkling gray eyes that were surrounded by permanent laugh wrinkles. She looked like somebody's grandmother.

Nancy nodded. “Please,” she said.

“I want some pie, too,” Ned said. “Do you have apple?”

“Sure do. Best apple pie in town.”

“With ice cream,” Ned added. “And can you
tell us which one of the waitresses is Jennifer Bover?”

The woman's friendly expression suddenly disappeared. “Jennifer Bover?” she repeated, her voice taking on a sarcastic ring. “Miss Jennifer decided to call in sick twenty minutes before her shift started. She knew that Helen was on vacation. And she knew that the night manager was off. And she knows what Friday night is like around here. But does she care about the rest of us? No! Then on top of it, yesterday, she asked for the weekend off to go on some kind of biking trip.”

She glanced from Nancy to Ned, who were both looking puzzled at the outburst, and forced a small smile. “I'm sorry,” she apologized. “I shouldn't mouth off like that. Are you friends of Jennifer's?” She paused for a split second and then answered her own question. “No, you can't be friends, or you wouldn't have asked which waitress she was. . . . I'll get your pie.”

“What do you think of all that?” Ned asked Nancy when the woman was out of earshot. “If Jennifer's sick tonight, I wonder if she'll be going on the bike trip.”

Nancy shrugged. “Guess we'll have to wait till tomorrow and see if she shows up,” she replied. “Right now, I'm worrying about something more important.”

“What's that?”

“Are you going to let me have a bite of your pie?”

Ned laughed. “Only if you're very, very good.”

• • •

When they got back to campus, Nancy and Ned sat in silence in front of Packard Hall, just enjoying being together. Nancy nestled contentedly against his shoulder as he held her in his arms.

“I love you, Nancy Drew,” he whispered into the soft reddish gold waves that cascaded to her shoulders. “And I've missed you. I can't believe we're going to have three quiet days together.”

“Isn't it wonderful?” Nancy murmured. She pulled back a little and looked up into his brown eyes. She cupped his face between her hands and gently kissed him. “Oh, Ned—” she said, but her sentence went unfinished as he returned her kiss. When he finally released her, she leaned back against the soft leather seat cushions and sighed. “I'd better go in or I'll never get up in the morning. It must be almost midnight.”

Ned looked at his watch. “Almost,” he said, getting out. “You're right, I should get back to the frat house, too.” He walked to Nancy's side of the car and opened the door, and the two of them walked slowly arm in arm to the door of Packard Hall.

“Tomorrow,” Ned said. He planted a quick kiss on Nancy's forehead and strode back to the car as she entered the dorm.

The lobby was quiet, and Nancy paused to glance into the dimly lit lounge. A girl wearing jeans and a sweatshirt was standing across the room by a picture window, looking out across campus.

“George?” Nancy whispered, wondering why her friend was up and about.

The girl jumped at the sound of Nancy's voice and quickly turned around.

“I'm sorry,” Nancy apologized. “I didn't mean to startle you. I thought you were someone else.” She grinned. “But I see that my someone else is off in dreamland over there.” She motioned toward a couch where George was curled up, asleep. “I'm Nancy Drew,” she continued, extending her hand.

“Jennifer Bover,” said the young woman, shaking hands. She pulled off the bandanna covering her head and ran her fingers through her short, golden blond hair. Nancy couldn't help staring. Except for her hair color, she did look a lot like George. “Nice to meet you, Nancy,” she said with a smile.

“Well, I'm pleased to meet
you,
” Nancy said. “I hear we're going on the same bike trip. I'm sorry you couldn't be at the dinner tonight—although you didn't miss anything except some good food. I'm really psyched for this trip, aren't you?”

“I'm anxious to get away for a few days,” Jennifer replied. “But I'm not a very experienced
cyclist. They said that didn't matter when I signed up.”

“I'm sure that's not important. It's just a fun trip, not a competition,” Nancy said. “And the weather's going to be perfect.”

Jennifer nodded and then yawned. “Excuse me, I'm exhausted,” she said. “I need to get upstairs and get some sleep. We have an early start, and I pulled a long, hard shift tonight.” She moved toward the door.

Nancy looked at her, puzzled. “Where?” she asked.

Jennifer glanced back over her shoulder, her eyes making contact with Nancy's for a brief second before she looked away. “At Ed's Diner, on the other side of town.”

T
HAT'S WEIRD
, Nancy said to herself, staring after Jennifer. Why would she lie? She pushed the question from her mind and walked to the couch where George was sleeping. “Come on, George. Time to go upstairs and get into a real bed.”

George stretched and propped herself up on one elbow. “What time is it?” she mumbled, rubbing her eyes.

“After midnight,” Nancy said. “And I just had the strangest conversation with Jennifer Bover.”

“Rover?” asked George. She yawned and swung her legs off the couch.

“Not Rover, Bover.”

“Y'know, that couch is pretty comfortable.”

Nancy grinned. “A bed will be even better.” She knew from past experience that there was no
point in trying to pursue a conversation with George when she was half asleep. “Let's go upstairs.”

• • •

In the morning Nancy and George checked to make sure they had packed everything they'd need for the bike trip before they went down to join the others at breakfast.

“How's the knee?” Nancy asked.

“Feels fine,” George replied. “I think the ice pack did it, but I'm taking my trusty knee support along just in case.” She tucked the elasticized brace into the top of her small backpack. “There! I'm ready, I think. You know, I vaguely remember you saying something last night about a dog. Rover?” She paused. “Or was I dreaming?”

Nancy shook her head and laughed. “You weren't dreaming. But it was Bover, not Rover. A person, not a dog. Jennifer Bover, the one who's going on the bike trip.”

“Oh, yeah,” George said. “The one who couldn't have dinner with us because she had to work.”

“Yes, except she wasn't working,” Nancy said. Quickly she recapped the events of the evening for George. “The cashier at Ed's Diner told Ned and me that she had called in sick. Then half an hour later, I met her downstairs in the lounge and she told me she had pulled a long, hard shift. I can't figure out why she'd lie about it.”

“Maybe she had a hot date,” George said. “Or just wanted a night off.”

“That would explain why she called in sick,” Nancy said, “but why would she tell
me
she was working? It doesn't make any difference to me whether she was or not.”