“Get out of my way,” Jon said, through gritted teeth. It looked to Nancy as though he was just barely able to control his temper, disgust, and horror.
“She’s alive?” Sheila asked, in a whisper.
“She’s alive,” Jon confirmed furiously. He would have pushed past Sheila and gone then—except that she pulled an automatic pistol from the pocket of her jacket and pointed it at Mm.
“You’re not going to her,” she breathed.
Jon stood completely still, his eyes on the gun. “Sheila, give it up. Enough people have been hurt.”
“You’re not going to her,” Sheila repeated.
Jon took a step toward her. Sheila pulled back the hammer. “You really mean it, don’t you?” she whispered brokenly. “You want her, not me.”
“Sheila—”
“I’m going to kill you,” Sheila said, pointing the gun directly at Jon’s chest. “Goodbye, Jon.”
Chapter
Seventeen
JON HELD UP both hands in a useless effort to protect himself. “Sheila, don’t,” he whispered desperately.
She laughed. “It’s too late,” she said, holding the gun in both hands and waving it wildly from side to side. “Do you hear me? It’s too late! You don’t love me anymore—you love her!” For a moment pain twisted Sheila’s features, but then she was .smiling again. “1 was hoping to get you back, I admit that—but I had this backup plan.”
Jon said nothing. His hands remained in midair, and his eyes were still fixed on the pistol. Nancy, meanwhile, was inching her way closer, moving silently through the shadows.
“You know,” Sheila went on, “you’ve gone soft since the old days, when we used to work with Mike. I should have seen it before. You’re nothing but a—a coward.”
Jon moistened his lips. He had every reason to be scared, but he was keeping his head. Nancy admired him for that.
Hold on! she thought as she slipped between charred tables and chairs.
“Give me the gun, Sheila,” Jon said, cautiously holding out his hand. “We’ll talk. Somehow, we’ll work everything out.”
Sheila shook her head. “That isn’t going to work. I know you’re only trying to get the gun away.”
Nancy held her breath as Jon took another step toward Sheila.
“You don’t want to kill me,” he said.
“Yes, I do,” Sheila argued. “That was plan B—killing you for the insurance money and starting over somewhere else. I’d be lonely, but I’d be rich, too.”
“What insurance money?” Jon asked, frowning.
Again, Sheila gave that chilling laugh. “You have a terrible memory, darling,” she said. “Remember when we were engaged, and you took out that policy on your life so I’d be provided for if something happened to you?”
Jon nodded slowly, looking baffled.
“Well,” Sheila boasted, “I’ve kept up the premiums. Now, Jon darling, I’m going to collect.”
“Collect?” Jon echoed. “You won’t get a penny, Sheila—you’ll be in jail for murder.”
Easy, Nancy thought. Don’t get her excited.
Sheila shook her head. “I’ll clean out the office safe before I go—the police will think you were killed by burglars.”
Nancy was closer than before, but she was still too far away to stop Sheila. Seeing her raise the pistol, she grabbed a sooty soda glass from a table and hurled it behind Sheila, in order to distract her.
When Sheila whirled, startled by the sound, Nancy rushed toward her, grappling for the gun.
“No!” Sheila screamed, hatred in her eyes.
The girls struggled and the pistol discharged once before Nancy finally wrested it from Sheila’s grip.
Jon came up behind Sheila and caught her by the arms when she tried to lunge at Nancy again. His face filled with sadness, he again said the words that had driven Sheila to despair in the first place.
“It’s over.”
• • •
Nancy, George, and Bess were all crowded around Laurie’s bed as Nancy explained the case.
“So all along it was Pam—Sheila—doing those awful things,” Laurie said. “Is she in jail?”
Nancy nodded. “Jon called the police and, when they got there, Sheila confessed to everything.”
Just then, Jon stepped into the room. There was a resolute expression on his face. Nancy thought she knew what he had come for. Poor Jon, she thought. And poor Laurie, too.
“We’ll see you later,” George said to Laurie, taking Bess by the arm and starting toward the door. Nancy was right behind them.
“Please don’t go,” Jon said. “I want all of you to hear this.”
The three girls stopped and turned to look at Jon and then Laurie.
“I’m leaving River Heights,” he announced. “At least for a while.”
Laurie looked alarmed for a moment, but then she lowered her eyes and Nancy guessed that she was relieved, as well as sad.
Jon cupped his hand under Laurie’s chin and kissed her lightly on the forehead. “It’s because I care about you so much that I want to go away,” he said softly, his voice full of tenderness. “Too much has happened—we both need time to think about what we really feel. I’ll be back someday, Laurie, and if you still want me, we can start again.”
Laurie nodded sadly. After kissing her once again, very gently, Jon left the room without looking back.
Nancy, George, and Bess clustered around Laurie’s bed once more. Tears glimmered in her eyes, but she was trying hard to smile.
“I’ll bet he really will be back someday,” she said.
“I think you may be right,” Nancy agreed, smiling at her friend. “Who can tell what the future holds?”
This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Simon Pulse
An imprint of Simon & Schuster Children’s Publishing Division
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Copyright © 1989 by Simon & Schuster, Inc.
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ISBN: 978-0-6716-7489-2 (pbk)
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THE NANCY DREW FILES is a trademark of Simon & Schuster, Inc.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Carolyn Keene, 037 Last Dance
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