He didn’t ask questions. He just threw the cutter into reverse. “Full speed astern!”
Nancy gazed tensely at the receding boat. They’d barely gone a hundred yards when a tremendous blast shook the night. The Marlene disappeared in an explosive cloud of fire.
Feeling suddenly faint, Nancy swayed and clutched at the rail. It was over.
Chapter
Eighteen
THE REST OF THE NIGHT passed in a blur. The coast-guard captain radioed to the police, and when they pulled into the harbor at Montauk, a squad car was waiting for Nancy and Emily.
At the police station a grizzled, solid-looking man in a rumpled suit came forward. “My name’s Mayer,” he said. “I’m a detective. Why don’t you tell me exactly what happened?”
Detective Mayer led them to his office and took their statements. Nancy explained how she’d come to believe that Roland Lyons and Keith Artin had plotted Emily’s abduction, and how she thought Lyons had tried to kill Keith. Then she and Emily together told the detective about how Lyons had attempted to kill them.
“I sent a car out to pick him up after I first spoke to the coast guard,” Detective Mayer told them. He peered through the open door. “In fact, I think I see the officers bringing him in now. Come with me.”
Wondering, Nancy and Emily followed Mayer out into the main area of the police station. He walked right up to Lyons, who was sitting on a bench, studying his nails.
“Mr. Lyons,” said Detective Mayer, “do you recognize these two girls?”
Lyons looked up. His face turned almost gray. Maybe he thinks he’s seeing ghosts, Nancy guessed. He left us for dead.
“Hello, Mr. Lyons,” she said quietly.
After that he broke down. He was making a confession when Detective Mayer led the girls back to his office. Mayer turned to Nancy.
“By the way, thanks for your call yesterday, Ms. Drew,” he said. “We did dust for prints on the underbody of Keith Artin’s car. We found a couple around the brake valve that we couldn’t identify, but I suspect that when we get prints on our friend Roland Lyons, they’ll match up. I guess he didn’t have time to put on a pair of gloves when he was rigging the brakes that day.”
Nancy shuddered. “He certainly is coldblooded,” she commented.
Mayer nodded grimly. “We’ll put him away, don’t worry. I understand Keith Artin is conscious now, so we can get a statement from him, too. I think he’ll talk when he hears how Lyons tried to kill him.”
“I guess the condo deal will be scrapped if Lyons goes to jail, huh?” Emily asked hopefully.
Mayer shrugged. “I imagine so. Lyons can’t very well conduct his business from behind bars,” he replied.
A police officer stuck her head into the office. “A Mr. Nickerson and a Mr. Terner are here to pick up these girls,” she announced.
“Dad!” Emily shot out of her chair. “He must have been frantic. He’s such a worrier!”
Nancy followed Emily out, grinning. Relations between Emily and her father were definitely getting better.
Then Nancy saw Ned and ran into his arms. “Oh, Ned,” she murmured. “I was afraid I’d never see you again.”
“Shhh,” he whispered, stroking her hair. “Don’t talk now. Come on, let’s go home.”
• • •
“Go, Emily! Come on, Swallow!” George cried. She clutched Nancy’s arm in her excitement.
“You can do it, Tommy and Seth!” Bess called. She grabbed Nancy’s other arm. “Isn’t this fun?” she exclaimed.
Nancy grinned. “Ow! Take it easy,” she begged. “My arms haven’t recovered from their big workout last night.”
It was a cloudless, windy Saturday, the day of the big regatta. This was a five-race series, and four of the races were already finished. Seth Cooper and Emily Terner had each won two, splitting the series evenly. This final race would determine who took the trophy home this year.
Nancy didn’t know whom to root for, Seth or Emily. Emily was her friend, but she liked Seth a lot, and he was her aunt Eloise’s boyfriend. If things kept going so well between them, he might even be part of the family one day! she thought with a grin.
Finally she decided that no matter who won, she’d be happy. It was much easier that way.
Emily and Seth were flying toward the finish line now, and it was impossible to tell who was winning. Both were sailing wing-and-wing. Tommy stood on the foredeck of the Twice Shy, holding out the jib with a long pole to get the most wind possible, and Emily’s crewman was doing the same.
Both boats sailed past the final mark, and Nancy still couldn’t tell who had been in the lead. There were a few moments of silence, and then the judge’s voice boomed out.
“And the winner of this year’s trophy is Seth Cooper!” the judge declared.
Bess jumped up and down, shrieking with joy. “They won! They did it!” she kept saying. “Oh, I’m so proud of Tommy.”
“Isn’t it wonderful?” Eloise put in. She was standing next to Bess, glowing with pleasure. “Seth will be so happy!”
Nancy stepped apart from her friends and scanned the bleachers for Ned, but she couldn’t spot him. She frowned. She still hadn’t had a chance to tell him about her discussion with Sasha. Ever since she’d come back from her adventure the night before, she hadn’t had a moment to herself. She’d been besieged by calls from the police, reporters, and well-wishers all morning.
“Are you looking for Ned?” a familiar voice said in her ear. “He just hitched a ride from Dmitri. He asked me to tell you he’d be at home.”
It was Sasha. Nancy stared at him, puzzled. “At home?” she repeated. “Why did he leave?”
Sasha shrugged. “He didn’t tell me.”
Uneasy, Nancy headed for her car. Was Ned feeling ill? Or was he upset about something?
Nancy’s puzzlement grew when she got home and found the place empty. Then she spotted a note on the kitchen table.
“Meet me at the beach,” it said. It was unsigned, but Nancy recognized Ned’s writing.
Wondering, Nancy went down the deck stairs and through the dune grass to the beach.
“I thought it was time we talked,” Ned’s voice said from behind her. She turned. He was sitting by a steep dune, his face unreadable.
Nancy suddenly felt at a loss for words. She sat down beside him and let the wind whip her red-blond hair around her face. “Ned, I—” she began after a moment.
“I want to apologize for the way I’ve been acting,” he interrupted. His voice was gruff. “I know I’ve been a jerk. But I was so—so torn apart at the idea that I might be losing you. It made me crazy!”
Nancy hadn’t expected this. “Ned,” she said, facing him, “why are you apologizing to me? I’m the one who should be saying I’m sorry. You’re the most wonderful guy in the world, and I was almost dumb enough to let you go. I should have my head examined!”
“I’ve just been kicking myself for not handling the whole situation better, especially since that day when my stupid need to show off nearly got Sasha killed,” Ned said. Then he looked up sharply at Nancy, as if her words had just penetrated. “What did you say?” he asked.
“I said I should have my head examined,” Nancy repeated. “I don’t want to break up with you, Ned. You’re too much a part of me.”
Ned took her face between his hands and looked her in the eye. “And what about Sasha?” he asked quietly.
“Out of the picture, by mutual agreement,” Nancy told him. “Sasha is—too different. And Sasha isn’t you, Ned Nickerson.”
“I’ll agree with you there,” Ned said, a slow grin stealing across his face. “But you said something else—something about me being a pretty great guy?”
Nancy laughed softly at him and leaned forward to slide her arms around his neck. It felt so right to be with him like this. How could she ever have forgotten, even for a moment?
“I said that you’re the most wonderful guy in the world. And I think I’m hopelessly i
n love with you,” she murmured in his ear.
“Hopelessly, huh? Well, I hate to see you hopeless, so I’ll tell you a secret.” Ned kissed her nose lightly, his eyes glowing. “I’m hopelessly in love with you, too.”
And then Ned’s lips met hers, and Nancy lost herself in the wonderful, warm, tingling feeling that bubbled up inside her.
When Ned drew back, Nancy smiled radiantly at him. The sun was shining, the breeze was blowing, she had solved a complicated case, and she was in the arms of the guy she loved.
Life was just about perfect!
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.
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Carolyn Keene, Deep Secrets
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