Fatal Attraction by Carolyn Keene

the doctor says so. Since it’s Saturday, he won’t start his rounds for a couple of hours yet.”
    â€œA couple of hours!” Nancy moaned. “By then it could all be over!”
    â€œIt might be over sooner than that if you don’t relax,” the nurse warned with a smile.
    â€œCalm down, Nancy,” Ned said gently. “You’ll think better after you eat.” When the nurse had left the room, he added, “How about filling me in on everything—from the beginning?”
    By the time Nancy had finished breakfast, she had sketched out the events of the day before, beginning with her discussion with Chief Saunders and ending with her unexpected side trip into the cornfield. “The thing I can’t figure out,” she added, “is how Felix knew I was in Batesville. Unless—” She tried to think, but her head was still aching and it was hard to concentrate.
    The door opened. “Good morning, Miss Drew.” It was Chief Saunders, in uniform. He took off his brown hat and glanced at Ned. “I’d like to talk to this young lady alone, if you don’t mind.”
    â€œ I mind,” Nancy told him. “Ned’s staying.”
    The chief shrugged. “Have it your way,” he said, watching her with his cold blue eyes. “Are you ready to answer a few questions? I want to know why you went out to the DeCamp place and bothered Mr. and Mrs. DeCamp.”
    â€œI needed to know how Darla DeCamp had died.”
    â€œAnd what did you find out?”
    â€œThat her skull was fractured, and that she died from drowning.”
    â€œAnd what else?”
    â€œThat her parents think that she was murdered—by a guy calling himself Pete Mitchell.”
    â€œAnd you think you know where this Pete Mitchell can be found?”
    Nancy folded her arms across her chest. “I thought you weren’t interested,” she said cagily.
    â€œI am interested,” the chief said. “I’m going to put my deputy on this case, and I want you out of it.”
    â€œNo way,” Nancy said in a low, firm tone. “I have a client’s interests to protect, and I have absolutely no intention of getting off this case.”
    â€œMiss Drew,” the chief said, leaning forward and fixing his eyes on hers, “do you know what a material witness is?”
    Wordlessly, Nancy nodded.
    â€œIf you don’t swear that you’ll get off this case, I am going to lock you up. As a material witness to the death of Darla DeCamp.”
    Nancy looked at him calmly. “I think my father might have something to say about—”
    The phone rang. Ned reached for it, spoke into it briefly, and then handed it to Nancy. “It’s for you,” he said with a glance at Chief Saunders. “It’s Dirk Bowman.”
    â€œWho’s that?” the chief snapped.
    â€œDirk Bowman is a Fort Lauderdale detective,” Nancy said coldly. “He’s assisting me on this case. If you don’t let me talk to him, he’s going to know that something very odd is going on here.”
    The chief frowned, his ruddy forehead wrinkling. “Well, okay,” he growled. “I guess you can take the call. But I’m going down to the nurses’ station and listen in.”
    â€œSuit yourself.” Nancy took the phone from Ned as the chief hurried out of the room.
    â€œNancy?” Dirk asked. His voice was worried. “You okay?”
    Nancy laughed ruefully. “Just a little the worse for wear,” she said. “But I’m going to be out of here shortly. How’d you track me down?”
    â€œYour housekeeper told me you’d been in an accident and that I could reach you at the Batesville hospital. Listen, detective, I’ve got a make on that print you sent me.”
    Nancy sat up straighter. “Oh, yes? What did you find out, Dirk?”
    â€œThe print doesn’t belong to your boy, after