Subtly—probably barely noticeable to anyone who wasn’t looking for it—Pandora turned to Dragon. She gave him a meaningful look, but what did it mean to convey? You know I didn’t do this? You set me up? What?
I waited—it felt like minutes, but was probably only a few seconds—for Dragon to speak up. To explain to the world that Pandora and Vic had never really been together—that she loved him, and always had. Dragon looked haunted, like he was witnessing something horrifying, but he remained silent.
After a few seconds, he looked away.
“We have to take you to the police, Pandora,” Hans said, moving closer to her.
Pandora sobbed. After a couple of seconds, she wiped her eyes and seemed to try to get a hold of herself. She looked around at everybody, her eyes stopping when she reached a stone-faced Syd and Vic, who had remained surprisingly quiet and uninvolved throughout this whole process. I thought they were just trying to focus on the fact that they were married now—whatever the wedding saboteur had taken from them, they would soon be starting their new life together.
“I’m sorry,” whispered Pandora. “Syd and Vic, I’m so sorry this happened to your wedding. I swear I didn’t do it.”
Vic watched her for a moment, then swallowed.
“I’m sorry,” he said in a breathy voice, “but I don’t believe you.”
Guards advanced on Pandora, and soon she was being led out of the boathouse, into a waiting car that would drive them to the RHPD. I assumed—or hoped, maybe—that once Pandora was in custody, Akinyi and Jamal, who it seemed were innocent after all, would be set free.
I watched Dragon as his secret girlfriend was led away. He watched her, looking sympathetic, until she reached the door. Then he turned away, glanced around the room, and disappeared into the men’s room.
I wished I knew what he was thinking.
“Well,” Hans announced, once Pandora had been removed from the boathouse. “This has been a long, exhausting day, but we still have some celebrating to do! Syd and Vic, do you want to go ahead with the reception?”
Syd and Vic looked at each other. “Are you sure?” Syd asked, honest concern clouding her face. “I know this must be especially hard on you, Vic. To know someone you used to love would do this to us…”
Vic bit his lip. Looking extremely uncomfortable, he turned to Hans, who sighed and finally nodded almost imperceptibly. “Tell her,” Hans agreed. “She has the right to know now. And it won’t change anything.”
Syd looked confused. “Tell me what?” she demanded. “Vic, don’t tell me you’ve been keeping a secret about the case.”
Vic shook his head. “Of course not, no,” he insisted. “I would never keep anything from you that might lead to your getting hurt. But the truth is…Pandora and I…” He paused and sighed.
Syd watched him carefully, looking like the suspense was killing her. “What?” she cried.
Vic smiled. “We were never really a couple.”
Totally confused, Syd looked from Vic to Hans and back to Vic. “Huh?” she said.
Hans nodded, stepping closer. “They were never really a couple,” he confirmed. “Vic’s season of Daredevils was coming out a little lackluster, so…”
Syd frowned. “So?” she repeated.
“So we asked Pandora and Vic to spice it up,” Hans explained.
Syd looked back to Vic, stunned, as Vic took her hands and said soothingly, “Pandora was never my type, babe. Nothing mattered more to her than being on camera. I would have told you a long time ago, but…” He trailed off, gesturing at Hans and Donald.
“But?” Syd prompted.
Donald cleared his throat, turning a little red. “It would have broken the confidentiality agreement that all players sign,” he explained.
Hans nodded. “Of course, with everything we’ve had to worry about these last few days, your breaking that agreement is the least of our troubles.”
Syd stared at Vic thoughtfully, then shook her head. “I can’t believe it!” she said with a sheepish chuckle. “All this time I was fighting my jealousy of Pandora. All the experiences you had together, the feelings she might still have for you…”
Vic smiled. “All fake,” he confirmed. “Ever since I met you, Syd, you’re the only girl that matters. So shall we go celebrate?”
Syd laughed and nodded, and Vic turned to Hans.
“I’m so happy to be married to this girl, I need to dance!”
Vic’s pronouncement cut the tension in the room like a knife slicing through butter. Soon everyone was laughing, talking, speaking eagerly of the reception and the lavish party that awaited us.
Vic took Syd’s hand and led the way out the door. “Let’s get this party started!”
“Oooh, look,” Bess whispered, looking up from her fizzy pink punch as a couple new figures entered the party: Akinyi and Jamal.
“So they were set free,” I observed, feeling a strange combination of guilt and relief. After all—I was more responsible than anyone for getting them sent to the police station in the first place. And it now appeared that they were completely, 100 percent innocent.
“Nance,” George said gently, squeezing my shoulder. “Don’t beat yourself up. You had plenty of reasons to believe what you did. And you just wanted to keep everyone safe.”
I watched Akinyi and Jamal, not ready to reply. The reception had been going on for a couple of hours, and Syd and Vic were whirling dreamily on the dance floor. Everyone else was dancing or mingling cheerfully over punch and wedding cake. Cameramen swooped in and out, trying to capture, but not control, the action.
“I have to go apologize to them,” I announced, looking at my friends with a guilty expression. “Sure, I had reasons to believe what I did, but I must have embarrassed them completely—plus I kept them from witnessing their best friends’ wedding. I feel terrible.”
Bess looked sympathetic and nodded. “So let’s go apologize,” she suggested. “George and I will come with you.”
We made our way across the dance floor. As we approached, Akinyi turned and saw me and sighed deeply. She didn’t look angry—but she did look disappointed and exhausted. I could see that talking to me was not high on her “to do” list.
“Akinyi, Jamal,” I said quickly and loudly, before I could lose my nerve. “I just want to say I’m very sorry. I was trying to use logic to solve the case when I accused you, but I know all the evidence was circumstantial—and, as it turned out, totally wrong.” I sighed. “I’m so sorry. You’re both such good friends to Syd and Vic, and I helped ruin their wedding for you.”
Akinyi looked away, like she didn’t want to deal with this, but Jamal looked at me and nodded. He didn’t look thrilled, but he did seem to be impressed by my apology. “I understand how you got to your conclusion, Nancy,” he said simply. “It may take us a while to get over this, but we don’t blame you, okay? We just want to enjoy the reception as much as we can and tell our friends how happy we are for them.”
I nodded. All in all, the two of them were being very gracious. “I’ll leave you to it, then,” I offered, but just as I spoke, Syd came barreling out of nowhere and tackled Akinyi in a hug.
“Akinyi!” she cried, followed closely by her new husband, Vic. “I’m so sorry. I know nothing I say will ever make this right. And I’ll never forgive myself for doubting you, or for keeping you from being part of my wedding.”
Akinyi, who had looked stiff and uncomfortable since entering the reception, seemed to soften a little. “Syd,” she said, her voice rough, “just don’t do that again, okay? You know I love you.”
Syd pulled back and looked her friend in the eye. “I do,” she said sincerely. “I really do, Akinyi. And I’m so sorry it took something like this for me to realize it.”
Meanwhile Vic held out his hand to Jamal. “It looks like I owe you for a lot of things, buddy,” he said, his own voice sounding pretty close to tears. “I’m so sorry. I should have known you would never hold a grudge.”
/> Jamal nodded, looking very serious, then a smile peeked out. “I know you’re a jerk, Vic,” he said, starting to chuckle. “It’s part of what I love about you, okay? You’re larger than life.”
Grabbing Vic’s hand like he was going to shake it, Jamal pulled his friend close and they embraced.
“I’ll never forgive myself,” Vic said, sounding sincere.
“I know,” Jamal said simply, “but I will. You be good to this woman, and have a long happy marriage, and we’ll call it square.”
Syd smiled, gesturing to me. “If it weren’t for Nancy, we never would have figured out it was really Pandora causing all the trouble,” she told Jamal and Akinyi. “Thank goodness she’s so observant! Without her, we’d be headed off to the Caribbean still feeling afraid.” She turned to me. “Nancy,” she said, “I know this hasn’t been an easy case for you. You’ve had to make a lot of tough decisions, and hurt a lot of feelings.” She paused. “How can Vic and I ever repay you?”
I smiled. “It’s just like Jamal said,” I replied. “Have a long, happy life together, and forget all of this ever happened.”
Vic turned to his bride with a big smile, squeezing her hand. “Done, and done,” he promised me.
UNEXPECTED CONTACT
“Okay, I thought Syd and Vic’s wedding was nonstop action,” George told Bess and me a few days later as we piled into my kitchen after seeing a movie. “But that was the most action I’ve ever seen crammed into two hours.”
“Definitely,” I agreed. “When they blew up that trailer?”
“Or when that lion showed up?” Bess added, shaking her head. “He was hungry.”
I sighed, happily settling down at our kitchen table. It felt so nice not to have to worry about dresses, or shoes, or fittings, or cameras, or threatening messages. Syd and Vic had left for their honeymoon on a remote Caribbean island the day before, and their silence seemed to indicate they were having a perfectly normal honeymoon.
“What’s going on with Pandora?” George asked, finding some chocolate chip cookies in the cookie jar, freshly baked by our housekeeper and unofficial caretaker, Hannah.
“She’s still being held by the police,” I replied. I’d called the RHPD for an update just that morning. “They’re testing some of the evidence they found in her room for fingerprints, DNA, that sort of thing. She still insists those printouts, the raincoat, and the shaving cream were not hers.”
Bess shuddered. “She seemed so harmless and spacey all week,” she commented. “Scary to know how dangerous she really was.”
“Nancy?” I looked up and spotted Hannah standing in the kitchen doorway, pulling the vacuum cleaner behind her. “Did you see you have mail? It’s on the counter.”
I sprung up. “Anything important?” I asked. “Or is it something boring, like my cell phone bill?”
Hannah smiled. “It’s postmarked from London,” she replied. “And it was sent express mail. Who do you know in London?”
I glanced at Bess and George, honestly confused. “I have no idea,” I replied.
Getting up and walking over to the counter, I found a thick, business-size envelope addressed to “NANCY DREW” in messy, all-caps handwriting. Sure enough, the return address was a Thistle Kensington Gardens hotel in London. Curious, I tore open the envelope and pulled out a thick stack of paper with a sticky note on top:
Here are some things you should know. The wrong person is in jail. The crook is still out there! you have to do something. Sincerely,
A concerned citizen
“Whoa,” I breathed, as Bess and George got up to peer over my shoulder.
“Wasn’t Daredevils starting out its season in London?” Bess asked.
“I think you’re right,” George confirmed. “So Dragon would be there—and most of the crew we worked with.”
Peeling off the sticky note, I turned my attention to the papers beneath. The first seemed to be a photocopied page of a contract—upon further inspection, it seemed to be the contract Daredevils contestants signed that outlined the rules and regulations they must follow to compete in the show.
One section in particular had been highlighted in orange marker:
“No contestant shall have any current or prior connection to anyone involved in the production of Daredevils. This includes producers, crew members, employees of the FUN television network…” I paused, breathing in. “…or prior contestants.” I gave a meaningful look to my friends, who seemed to get it immediately.
“Dragon and Pandora,” Bess whispered.
I nodded, reading on. “If producers or crew members become aware of any such association during the filming of Daredevils, the contestants involved will be ejected from the show, and any monies paid to the contestant, either in the form of winnings or appearance fees, will be returned to the production company.”
George whistled. “So if Dragon and Pandora made their relationship public, they’d both lose a bunch of money. Whatever they received for appearing on the show, plus any money Pandora won.”
Bess nodded. “And Dragon would be kicked off this season,” she added. “Which is kind of a big deal, since he’s favored to win.”
I flipped through the papers, turning to the next page, and gasped. It was a printout of a typed page titled “Traditional Wedding Blessing.” Scanning the paragraph, I picked up on bits and pieces: “The officiant then waves the knife over the couple’s heads, chanting…the knife must be very sharp, symbolizing the threats the couple will face to their union…”
At the top of the page was a handwritten note:
Pandora—would make a great scene if you could perform this on the couple after the ceremony!
My jaw dropped. The handwriting was identical to the handwritten notes in the margins of the printout the producers had found in her room!
I heard Bess breathe in sharply behind me. “You know what this means, don’t you?” Bess asked.
I nodded, slowly putting the papers back down on the counter. “Pandora was set up,” I replied. “And Dragon wants us to know about it.”
Just then a musical beep sounded from my purse on the table. I glanced at my friends. It had to be my phone—and the tone of the beep told me it was an e-mail.
I walked over to the table, pulled out my phone, and sucked in a breath as I flipped it open.
YOU HAVE 1 NEW E-MAIL FROM SYDNEY VALDEZ.
I pushed the buttons to open it.
SOS. NANCY, I NEED THE THREE OF YOU HERE NOW!
IT’S NOT OVER!
There were four attachments, which I opened one by one. The first three were e-tickets—one each for George, Bess, and I to join Syd and Vic on their semiprivate island.
The final attachment was a photo. It showed what must have once been a beautiful hotel room—now totally trashed. Wrecked furniture—so battered and broken, it looked like it had been bashed into the walls—was piled around an unmade bed, with torn bedding strewn everywhere. On the bottom sheet, scrawled in a red liquid that looked like blood, was a chilling message:
Enjoy being newlyweds. You won’t both be alive for long!
On the bottom of the message there was a messy red smear. I pointed, my stomach clenching nervously. “What is that?” I whispered to my friends.
George blinked, shaking her head as it came to her. “It’s a silhouette,” she breathed. “For Mr. Silhouette.”
Gulping, I leaned in. I could see it now: the dark profile, eyes, nose, mouth. “Syd’s stalker.” I shivered.
“Oh my gosh,” whispered Bess. “I guess we’re headed for the Caribbean! Because Mr. Silhouette is still on the prowl.”
George stared at the photo, nodding grimly. “And he’s upped his game,” she pointed out. “From saboteur—to murderer.”
Carolyn Keene, Model Menace
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