Poison Pen by Carolyn Keene Page B

you would,” he reminded her.
    Brenda hung her head and said nothing.
    â€œWell,” Nancy said with a sigh, “it’s done. At least none of us got seriously hurt.” Turning to Brenda, she added, “Get your film developed right away,” she said. “Maybe there’ll be a clear shot of our mystery man.”
    â€œWhy do you keep calling him the mystery man?” Rick wanted to know. “There’s no question that it’s Uncle Bill, is there?”
    â€œYes, there is,” Nancy told him. “First, we still have no hard evidence that this case involves the Keatings at all. Second,” she went on, thinking out loud as she spoke, “even if it does involve them, there’s still a lot of unexplained stuff going on. I’m pretty sure Chris Trout fits into this, but I’m not sure how.”
    She turned to Rick, remembering something else. “You knew it was him outside your aunt’s house the other night,” she said. “Why didn’t you want to admit it?”
    Rick’s face took on an apologetic expression. “I didn’t even know Uncle Wilford’s brother was around until you described him. I couldn’t figure out what he was doing there, but the whole thing really got me scared. Aunt Maggie’s been so afraid to talk about what’s going on that I guess I just clammed up, too. I was afraid something terrible might happen if I said anything—I’m not sure why.”
    He shook his head slowly, as if confused by his own actions. “And then I was so freakedout by Brenda’s accident and what you told me about my aunt’s insurance, I forgot all about Uncle Chris.”
    â€œWell, there’s a chance he could have set up this meeting,” Nancy said, trying to piece things together in her mind. She thought of the brake shoe and Trout’s words about getting it to “the right people.” Could he have meant Brenda? But why would he want to give it to her?
    â€œSpeaking of hard evidence,” Rick said, breaking into Nancy’s train of thought, “all I found when I searched Uncle Bill’s study today is evidence that he’s weird.”
    â€œWhat do you mean?” Ned asked him.
    Rick shrugged. “He has this folder full of clippings. Mostly it was stuff about the military, but there were lots of articles about tornadoes.”
    â€œTornadoes?” Nancy was puzzled.
    â€œWell, not tornadoes, exactly,” Rick corrected himself. “Actually, they were all about microbursts. You know, those minitornadoes that all the meteorologists are warning about these days. The ones that appear out of nowhere, zap your house, and disappear before you even see what hit you.” He grinned sourly. “Maybe Uncle Bill is trying to come up with some way to develop them into the army’s newest secret weapon.”
    â€œMaybe.” Nancy let out a heavy sigh. Herhead was beginning to pound, and she couldn’t think straight anymore. “Let’s all go home,” she told the others. “We can start again tomorrow, after we’ve seen Brenda’s photographs.”
    â€¢Â â€¢Â â€¢
    The sound of the telephone awakened Nancy from a deep sleep the following morning. Through bleary eyes, she checked the clock on her bedside table. Ten o’clock. Then she reached for the phone and mumbled, “ ’Lo?”
    It was Rick. “I’m at Today’s Times with Brenda,” he said. “We just developed the film from last night.”
    Nancy sat up in bed, shaking herself awake. “Anything?” she asked.
    â€œNope. It’s useless,” came Rick’s unhappy voice. “She got one shot. It shows a blur which we think is the attacker’s shoulder—but it could be something else. And there’s a great shot of Ned looking surprised.”
    It wasn’t exactly good news, but Rick sounded so down Nancy decided to try