Very Deadly Yours by Carolyn Keene Page B

“ ‘in case you’ve forgotten, is this: Watch out, N.D. If you don’t get out of here, expect the worst. You’ll get it.’ Well, Lena? Who sent you this?”
    â€œI—I’ve never seen it before!” Lena stammered.
    â€œThat’s funny. Whoever wrote it seems to know you awfully well.” Nancy sat down in the chair next to Lena’s desk and rubbed her eyes wearily. “Come on, Lena,” she said. “You’d make it a lot easier for yourself if you’d just tell me who wrote the letter. I’m going to find out, anyway, and it’ll save us both time.”
    Lena opened her mouth, then shut it again. “I swear I don’t know who sent that. You can believe me or not. It’s up to you. But I can’t tell you who sent that letter, because I don’t know.”
    Nancy was silent for a second. “What can I say? I don’t believe you. I can’t force you to tell me anything, so I guess there’s no point in going on with this right now. You don’t mind if I hang on to the note, do you?” She was standing and putting the piece of paper into her purse as she spoke.
    â€œWhere—where are you going?” But Nancy didn’t answer.
    She was going upstairs to talk to Mr. Whittaker. Not to tattle on Lena. Nancy wasn’t about to make any accusations unless she had definite proof. But at the moment, Mr. Whittaker seemed to be her only ally.
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    â€œNo, I have to admit I hadn’t noticed this ad,” Mr. Whittaker told her a few minutes later, shaking his head with disbelief. “But the men inthe mailroom are right. Only someone on the staff could have inserted this. And that can only mean that—it’s hard to believe, but—”
    â€œThat whoever placed today’s ad also placed the original one, the one Bess answered?” Nancy finished for him. “It’s the only explanation I can think of, too. There’s no reason anyone on the staff should want me off this case otherwise.”
    That meant that the “accident” with the bricks on the scaffolding probably hadn’t been a coincidence at all.
    â€œWell, do you have any suspects?”
    â€œAs a matter of fact, I do, but—” Nancy stopped short. She had just realized something. Mr. Whittaker might be a suspect himself.
    But how can he be? she thought. The editor in chief of the Record? It was impossible to imagine him being involved.
    On the other hand—now that she thought about it—he did fit Bess’s description of the guy she had met in the restaurant. And Nancy had known plenty of criminals who seemed incapable of doing anything wrong. As far as opportunity went, Mr. Whittaker was as much a suspect as anyone else.
    â€œNancy? Are you there?” he asked her, smiling. “I said, do you have any suspects?”
    Nancy forced herself to smile back. “Of course I do. But I know you’ll understand that I should keep them to myself for now.”
    â€œI understand.”
    â€œThere’s one thing I’d like to do, though,” Nancy said, “and that’s to get Bess over here to look around. If she recognizes anyone, the case’ll be over today.”
    â€œWell, I—I suppose that would be all right.” Was it her imagination, or did he suddenly look wary?
    â€œGreat!” Nancy said enthusiastically. “I’ll call her right away. Do you think I could make the call from your office? I’d rather not broadcast this any further than I have to.”
    â€œAbsolutely,” said Mr. Whittaker. “I’ll let you have a little privacy, too.” Before Nancy could tell him that it wasn’t really necessary, he had left the room.
    He really does seem nice, Nancy thought as she dialed Bess’s number. I’d hate to think he could be involved in this.
    She sighed in frustration when she got a busy signal. Wasn’t