If Looks Could Kill by Carolyn Keene

from rolling her eyes. “But we did try the dance club,” she fibbed. “Are you sure you were there the whole evening?”
    â€œYou did leave for a while, remember?” Sheila reminded Derek. “You said you had to talk to Martika. You were gone a long time. I remember I wondered what happened to you.”
    â€œOh, yes. That’s right,” Derek said. “Thanks for reminding me, Sheila.” He acted anything but grateful.
    â€œI also wanted to ask you about the key to Martika’s suite,” Nancy went on. “She said you have one. Somebody got in there yesterday afternoon and fooled with her boa’s cage.”
    â€œReally?” Derek asked. “That’s pretty funny. To tell you the truth, I did misplace my key yesterday. I could have sworn I had it on my desk, but then when I checked it was gone.”
    Nancy remembered that Derek had had to pick the lock of Martika’s suite when he went in to get the check, so maybe he was telling the truth about the key. “Well, see you later,” Nancy said, getting up to go. “Don’t work too hard.”
    â€œI won’t,” Derek called after her.
    So, Nancy thought as she went back outside. Suspect number two had no better alibi than suspect number one.
    Nancy took the long way back to the main building, around the tennis courts. She chose a path that ran near the drop-off to the shore, then turned toward the herb garden. The place was deserted, just as it had been the day before.
    She paused for a minute by the entryway. Just then she heard a rustling behind her. Before she could swing around, she felt a powerful arm circle her neck from behind!
    A hand covered her mouth, and Nancy was dragged backward into the garden. As hard as she kicked and twisted, she was unable to break free.
    Then an angry voice whispered in her ear, “All right, Miss Detective. Suppose you tell me exactly what’s going on.”

Chapter

Seven
    T HE ARMS TWIRLED her around and then let go of her. Nancy found herself staring into the fierce eyes of Kurt Yeager. Taking a deep breath and facing him squarely, Nancy said, “You have a real knack for approaching people. Has anyone ever told you that?”
    â€œSorry,” he said, his gaze down as he ran both hands through his blond hair. “But I have to know what’s going on.” Kurt sat down on one of the stone benches. “There’s a rumor going around about you. If you’re really a friend of Martika’s, why haven’t I ever heard about you?” He slapped his hands down on the bench, frustrated. “I know Martika doesn’t trust me, but I’m doing the best I can in an awkward situation. I just can’t figure out why she’s hired a detective to keep an eye on me.”
    Nancy studied Kurt carefully. A moment earlier he had appeared so threatening, and now he was acting almost meek. “Okay, I’ll level with you,” she said. “But you’ll have to level with me first.”
    â€œAll right,” Kurt said, nodding once. “What do you want to know?”
    â€œFirst of all, why did you lie to me about why you were late for your body-sculpting demonstration?” Nancy asked.
    Kurt bit his lip. “I-I’m sorry,” he said. “I sort of took a little walk by myself. Sadie Thomas—the actress—said something pretty cruel about my performance in The Flame Throwers. I got mad and took off because I didn’t want to blow up and take it out on one of the guests.”
    â€œI see,” Nancy said. It was a plausible explanation, at least. “And where were you last night at around ten?” she asked.
    Kurt frowned. “Why do you want to know?” he demanded. “Has something happened?”
    â€œUh-uh,” Nancy cautioned, holding up her index finger. “I’m asking the questions first, remember?”
    Kurt blew out a breath of air. “Okay,” he