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  “Here, let a professional do it,” Bess said. She opened her purse and pulled out a complete makeup and hair kit, including a miniature can of hairspray.

  “We don’t have time for that,” Nancy protested, but Bess ignored her objection.

  “You have to make up for the camera—it washes out all the natural color,” she said firmly, dusting Nancy’s face with some rose blusher.

  Nancy grinned. “I can’t believe you drag around all those cosmetics, Bess.”

  “My motto is be prepared—you never know when you might have to look right for Mr. Right,” Bess replied. “Don’t smile, Nan—you’ll mess up the eyeliner.”

  When Bess had finished applying the last spritz of hairspray, Nancy saw Danny signaling her from the news van. “Come on and watch, Bess,” she said as she sprinted toward the camera setup.

  Marcus gave Nancy a tiny earpiece so that she could listen to what was being said at the station.

  “We’re almost ready to go on the air,” Nancy heard the producer explain over the earpiece. “You’ll be able to hear what the anchors are saying, but obviously you won’t be able to see them. Look directly into the camera when you’re talking. Good luck, kid.”

  “Thanks, Mr. Liski,” Nancy said, and took a deep breath.

  “Forty seconds to air,” Marcus announced.

  Nancy picked up the microphone and cleared her throat. She forced herself to relax—this was no time for stage fright!

  “Five seconds,” Marcus said, then gave Nancy her cue to speak.

  Nancy looked directly into the camera. “We’re at the scene of a spectacular collision between two huge tanker trucks on Highway Forty-two at Isis Road,” Nancy began. She briefly summed up the basic facts of the crash, including the fire and rescue efforts. Then there was a pause as the tape of Nancy’s interview with the police sergeant was played over the air. When the tape finished, Hal Taylor came on the line.

  “Do we know yet what caused the crash?” he asked Nancy.

  “Police officials say the crash was caused by an overtired truck driver who fell asleep at the wheel,” she explained. “This crash comes on the heels of the state senate’s decision to scuttle legislation that would have prevented drivers from working double shifts.”

  Nancy listened as Hal thanked her for her report. Then Danny signaled that they were off the air. Otto Liski’s voice came over the line. “Good job, Nancy! You sounded like a real pro,” he said. “I liked the way you made the tie-in to inaction by the state legislature. And we beat the competition on this story by at least fifteen minutes, thanks to you and the crew.”

  Nancy quickly began unfastening her microphone gear. Now that her reporting job was done, she was eager to get back to the station and pursue her investigation into the threats against Hal.

  She watched as a tiny green sports car came racing up at breakneck speed. It threw up a spurt of gravel and dust as it screeched to a halt in front of the news van. Gary Krieger jumped out of the car and rushed up to Danny.

  “What’ve you got here?” he demanded. “An explosion?”

  “You’d better ask her,” Danny said, nodding toward Nancy. “She already did all the interviews—and the live shot.”

  “What?” Gary’s face reddened with rage. “Liski knew I was on my way! Why didn’t he wait until I got here?”

  “He just asked me to fill in temporarily so that we could lead the four o’clock news with the crash story,” Nancy explained. She held out her notes to Gary. “I’ll be glad to fill you in on what happened.”

  Glaring at her, he knocked the notebook out of her hand. “Don’t think you’re going to launch your broadcasting career on my beat,” he said with an ugly snarl. “You’d better stay out of my way, Nancy—or else!”

  Chapter

  Eleven

  NANCY MET Gary’s glare without blinking.

  “Or else what?” she retorted. “Are you threatening me because you lost an assignment—just like you’ve been threatening Hal Taylor?”

  Nancy hoped that Gary’s anger would provoke him into revealing if he was connected with the attacks against Hal. To her surprise, all of the rage drained from the man’s face. He looked stunned for a moment, then his expression became confused.

  “You think I’m behind the attacks on Hal?” he asked incredulously. “Look, maybe I don’t respect the guy, but I’d never actually hurt him.”

  “It’s hard for me to believe that, since you just threatened me,” Nancy replied hotly. “For instance, it would have been very easy for you to have set that fire in Hal’s office, considering your background as a fire fighter. And you were wearing a jacket like the one Clay Jurgenson saw right around the time of the fire.”

  Gary looked defensive. “I didn’t set that fire—or play that threatening tape the other night,” he insisted. He looked down at the ground and poked at the dirt with his toe. “I admit I fly off the handle sometimes,” he said. “But basically I’m pretty harmless. I always push hard because that’s what it takes to be a good reporter. Anyway, I’m sorry if I offended you, Nancy.” He held out his hand toward her. “Truce?”

  Despite her lingering suspicions about him, Nancy shook his hand. “No harm done,” she said.

  The reporter picked up her notebook from the ground and dusted it off. “Danny, you did a bang-up job on that live shot. Congratulations. Thanks for the notes. I’ll review them for my report.”

  Bess jumped out of the van, where she’d been chatting with Marcus. “I watched your whole report on the monitor inside the van,” she said, hurrying over to Nancy. “It looked great! If you keep this up you’ll become a celebrity.”

  “Believe me, Bess, I don’t want to be famous.” Nancy said, shaking her head wryly. “I’d never be able to do undercover work again.”

  It was beginning to snow lightly as Nancy and Bess drove to the restaurant where Bess worked.

  “To think that the state senate wouldn’t pass a law that could have prevented that accident,” Bess said angrily. “It makes me realize how important it is that Hal’s story go on the air, despite whoever wants to stop him.”

  “Gary Krieger’s still on my list of suspects,” Nancy said. She described the way he had threatened her following the live shot. “I haven’t decided whether he’s just an excitable type or really dangerous.”

  Ten minutes later, Nancy dropped Bess off at the restaurant. “What are your plans for tonight?” Bess asked, opening the passenger door.

  “Tonight is strictly R and R,” Nancy replied. “Ned has a long weekend break, so he’s coming home from Emerson. Dad and Hannah are both going to be out, so I’ve planned an old-fashioned evening by the fireplace. We’re going to roast marshmallows.”

  “If I know you and Ned, marshmallows aren’t the only things that’ll get heated up,” Bess teased.

  Nancy blushed. “I have to admit it’ll be great to see him again,” she said.

  The two girls said goodbye, then Nancy put the car into gear.

  • • •

  Nancy was watching TV in the living room later that evening, when she heard the doorbell ring. She opened the door eagerly to find Ned standing there.

  “Hi, there, Drew,” Ned said softly, his dark eyes shining as they swept over her.

  “Hey, Nickerson,” she replied. She melted into his arms for a long, lingering kiss. Ned looked more handsome than ever, Nancy thought. A light bronze glow touched his cheeks, and he was wearing an ivory fisherman’s sweater that brought out the warmth of his brown eyes.

  Ned raised his arm to show Nancy the bag of nuts he was clutching in his fist. “You know the old song about roasting chestnuts and an open fire?” he said. “Well, that’s what I’ve planned for us tonight.”

  “I always wanted to roast chestnuts with a handsome guy. I guess you’ll have to do, though,” Nancy teased.

  Ned’s strong arms slipped around her waist. Nancy leaned against him, enjoying the feel of his sweater’s rough weave against her cheek.
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  “Where are your dad and Hannah?” Ned asked.

  “Dad has a business dinner, and Hannah’s visiting her sister for a few days,” Nancy replied. “So we have the place to ourselves.”

  Soon they were lounging in front of a roaring fire in the living room. Nancy leaned back against a big pile of pillows, with Ned’s head resting on her lap. She plucked two marshmallows from a glass bowl and stuck them onto a long wooden stick.

  “I’ll let you do the cooking,” Ned murmured lazily. “I like my marshmallows burned black on the outside and gooey inside.”

  “And these were going to be perfect golden brown specimens.” Nancy laughed. “Here goes,” she announced, holding the marshmallows directly over the flame. When the marshmallows had turned completely black, Ned took one off the stick and popped it into his mouth.

  “Umm,” he said, licking his fingers. “Nobody burns ’em like you, Nancy,” he said teasingly. After they had devoured numerous marshmallows and chestnuts, Nancy reached for the television remote control.

  “I hate to break the mood,” she said, “but I have to watch Hal Taylor on the late news to make sure everything goes okay.”

  “What’s going on at Channel Nine, anyway?” Ned asked. Nancy briefly described the incidents at the station. When she told him about the bribes that Gilbert had been accepting, Ned shook his head.

  “Let me know if there’s anything I can do to help you on this case,” he said. “From what you’re saying, this Gilbert character sounds like a real sleazeball.”

  “Thanks, Ned,” Nancy said. “I’ll let you know if I need any help.”

  When Hal finished the late news, Nancy clicked off the program. “Thank goodness everything went smoothly,” she said.

  Ned reached up and stroked Nancy’s hair. “Now tell me, what’s the real scoop at Channel Nine?” he asked. “Are there any tall, dark, and handsome news reporters I have to watch out for?”

  Nancy thought about her experience with the world of reporters over the past couple of days. Her initial attraction to Hal Taylor had quickly faded away once she started investigating the case. Despite his good looks, there was something very self-centered about the anchorman, she realized. She could truthfully say that Ned had no competition at Channel 9.

  Leaning over, she kissed the tip of Ned’s nose. “Don’t you know you’re the only tall, dark, and handsome guy who matters to me?” she said softly.

  Ned responded by curling a hand gently around Nancy’s neck and drawing her head toward his. Their lips met in a long, sizzling kiss, and Nancy’s heart soared.

  • • •

  The next morning, Nancy got up before the alarm went off. She was determined to follow up on the leads she had developed the day before, including Marilyn Morgan’s possible involvement with Steve Gilbert.

  The newsroom was practically deserted when Nancy arrived, but she knew it would be bustling soon. Even though it was Saturday, the newsroom was busy seven days a week.

  Otto Liski was one of the few people around, Nancy saw. He was already working at his desk. “Don’t you ever sleep?” she asked him lightly, stopping in his office doorway.

  Mr. Liski looked up from the sheaf of wire service copy he was marking and shook his head ruefully. “I’m a typical news producer—we live on deadlines, caffeine, and nervous energy,” he said with a smile. “Television is a twenty-four-hour-a-day business, and after a while it takes over your life.” He glanced curiously at Nancy. “So how’s the investigation coming?” he asked.

  Nancy quickly filled him in on her experience at KSM Express. She described her suspicions about Kurt Milhaus and showed him the pen she had found in the station’s tape booth.

  “I’ve linked this pen to KSM Express,” she said. “Milhaus seemed pretty nervous when I told him I found it at the station.”

  “Then it’s likely that he could be working with Gilbert. He must know that he would be exposed in Hal’s story as well,” Liski commented.

  Nancy nodded. “Evidently Hal’s interview with Milhaus was pretty stormy, so he probably knows the gist of what Hal will be reporting on the air.”

  Mr. Liski took the pen from Nancy and examined it. “So whoever dropped this in the tape booth must have a connection to Milhaus. But who is it?”

  “I found out that Marilyn Morgan had a meeting with Gilbert last Wednesday,” Nancy said.

  “Marilyn met with Gilbert!” Liski sounded shocked. “Why would she do that?”

  Nancy took a deep breath. “It makes perfect sense if she’s the person who is collaborating with Gilbert,” she explained.

  “It’s possible there’s some reasonable explanation for her meeting with him,” the producer said slowly, handing the pen back to Nancy. “But we’ll have to confront her with your discovery—and soon.”

  “I’d like to do a little more digging before we make any accusations,” Nancy said. “Meanwhile, has the arson squad turned up anything?”

  “They confirmed what you suspected. The fire was set by someone who used lighter fluid,” Liski replied. He wearily rubbed his forehead. “I just can’t believe that Marilyn would be behind it.” He looked up at Nancy. “What do you have planned for today?”

  “I’d like to review any of your old news tapes that have to do with Steve Gilbert,” Nancy said. “Do you have a library where you store the old tapes?”

  Otto Liski nodded and jumped to his feet. “We call our tape library the morgue because it’s where we put dead news stories,” he said. “But I’m warning you—it would take weeks to sift through all those hours of tape.”

  He led Nancy to a storage room that was crammed floor to ceiling with tapes. They were arranged by subject. After showing her how to view the tapes, Liski said, “Good luck,” and then left.

  • • •

  Several hours later, Nancy had finished viewing a stack of tapes in one of the editing booths. She had to plow through hundreds of stories about the state legislature to find anything remotely linked to Steve Gilbert. Most of the stories were routine committee-meeting reports, she was frustrated to discover.

  She was beginning to think she would never find anything useful, when she popped the last tape into the machine. She fast-forwarded to the beginning of the story, which was about trucking deregulation. Kurt Milhaus was standing on the podium beside Steve Gilbert. Once again, Nancy was struck by how familiar Milhaus’s face looked.

  At the end of the story, there were a few seconds of outtake footage—stray shots that weren’t part of the story but were tacked on by a videotape editor in case they were needed for a longer version of the story. In the outtakes, Nancy could see Gilbert and Milhaus huddling in a corner of the conference room during a break in the meeting. She saw Milhaus hand Gilbert something.

  Whoa! Nancy’s mind screamed. What was that? After rewinding the tape, she played that section over again. Even at extra slow speed, she could barely make out a white envelope that Milhaus passed to Gilbert. The politician stuffed the envelope into his jacket pocket.

  Could Steve Gilbert have been reckless enough to accept a bribe at a public meeting? Nancy wondered. Apparently he had been unaware that the camera was turned on.

  Nancy returned all the tapes to the morgue except for the one with Kurt Milhaus in it. Tucking the tape under her arm, she headed back to the newsroom to look for Hal. She wanted to ask him whether he’d seen the outtake footage.

  By this time it was late morning, and the newsroom was throbbing with activity. Reporters and camera crews milled about. Otto Liski was posting new assignments on the large chalkboard. Behind him, the sound of a crackling police scanner added to the sense of confusion.

  Hal wasn’t there, so she headed down the hallway that led to his office. His desk, which had been ruined by the fire, had been replaced and Hal had insisted on remaining in his office, even though it still smelled of smoke. As she approached, she heard loud voices. Through the open door, she saw an enraged Marilyn Morgan standing in front of Hal??
?s desk.

  “You deliberately tried to embarrass me by bringing her here!” Marilyn shouted, pointing toward a corner of Hal’s office. With a start, Nancy noticed that Rita Greenburg was sitting on a chair, looking very uncomfortable. She seemed to be on the verge of tears.

  “Be reasonable, Marilyn—” Hal began.

  Now Marilyn was the one who burst into tears. By this time, other people had stopped in the hall to gape at Marilyn and Hal. Bill Steghorn brushed past Nancy and went into Hal’s office. He put an arm around the anchorwoman’s shoulders.

  “Let’s go back to your office, where you can have some privacy,” the engineer said soothingly, leading her down the hallway.

  Hal glanced at Rita. “I’m sorry this happened,” he told her. Then he looked helplessly at Nancy. “I have to talk to Marilyn, Nancy. Could you . . . ?”

  “I’ll take care of Rita,” Nancy offered. Not that she had much choice—Hal was already striding down the hall after Marilyn.

  Rita grabbed her coat, and Nancy walked her out to the parking lot. When they reached her car, Rita dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief.

  “So much for my lunch with Hal,” she said, sniffling.

  “Don’t mind Marilyn—” Nancy started to say, but Rita interrupted her.

  “I’m not upset because she was yelling. I’m upset because she’s right, “Rita said sadly. “Hal’s still in love with Marilyn. I mean, that’s obvious from the way he ran after her just now. I guess I couldn’t see that because I had such a crush on him.”

  “Hal Taylor is definitely crush material,” Nancy said gently, remembering her first impression of the anchorman. “So don’t blame yourself for getting involved.”

  “I’m going to call him tonight and tell him we shouldn’t go out anymore,” Rita said. She managed a rueful smile. “I figure I’d better call it off before he does, if you know what I mean.”

  Nancy wished her good luck, then said goodbye. She was on her way back to the newsroom, when she ran into Hal in the hallway.