High Risk

  Chapter

  One

  NANCY DREW, I could kill you!” Bess Marvin’s usually soft voice sounded annoyed as she took the armful of clothes her friend handed her.

  “I never thought the day would come when I’d get tired of shopping for clothes,” Bess went on. “But we’ve been at this for four hours already. We must have covered every store in River Heights, and you still haven’t bought anything. You’re driving me nuts!”

  “Sorry,” Nancy said. She came out of the boutique’s fitting room, smoothing her reddish blond hair behind her ears. “I guess I’m not really in the mood to shop today.”

  “Obviously,” Bess said huffily. She carried the pile of clothes Nancy had discarded and went out to hang them back on the racks.

  George Fayne, Bess’s cousin and Nancy’s friend, was standing by the fitting room door, obviously bored. “Better get with it, Nan,” she advised. “That is, if you want to find something new to wear for Ned tonight. It’s four o’clock already.” George bent forward, stretching her long, athletic body and shaking her head so that her short, dark curls bounced around her face. “Besides,” she added, popping back up, “all this standing around is exhausting! Maybe I should stop bugging Bess about not getting enough exercise. I don’t know how she can shop the way she does—I feel as if I’ve just run a marathon!”

  “Okay, okay.” Nancy grinned at her friend. “I promise to find something I like in the next ten minutes.”

  Both girls turned as Bess hurried back into the fitting area, carrying a mock-turtleneck dress made of peach-colored jersey.

  “Look what I found. This is it,” she said with a decisive toss of her blond hair. “If you don’t like this, then I give up.”

  Nancy took the dress and looked at it with a critical eye. “I don’t know,” she said. “The skirt is awfully short.”

  “Oh, you know you’ve got perfect legs, so what are you worried about?” Bess scolded, waving away Nancy’s objection.

  “Maybe I’m just modest.” Nancy went back into the cubicle to try the dress on.

  As she smoothed the soft fabric over her hips, Nancy gazed at herself in the mirror. Bess had made a great choice, she realized. The soft color brought out the pink in her cheeks, and her blue eyes looked even brighter by contrast. The skirt wasn’t that short, she decided, and it made her legs appear even longer.

  “Okay, guys, you’re off duty,” she called through the door. “Bess, it is the perfect dress.”

  “Hallelujah!” George exclaimed. “Hurry up and change, Nan. After this workout, even I need some ice cream.”

  A few minutes later the three girls were seated around a little wrought-iron table in front of an ice-cream parlor in downtown River Heights, the girls’ hometown. George had ordered a sundae, Nancy a scoop of fudge swirl. Bess had ordered a diet soda, but now she was casting longing glances at George’s sundae. Shorter and curvier than her two friends, Bess was perpetually trying to lose a few pounds, even though she was the only one who thought she needed to.

  “So what’s the big occasion?” George wanted to know. She ate a spoonful of her sundae. “What’s so special about tonight that you have to go out and spend four hours looking for the perfect new outfit?”

  Nancy shrugged. “It’s no big deal, really,” she said. “It’s just that I want something that will really get Ned’s attention. I’ve been feeling a little bit—well, neglected lately.” She frowned. “Ned’s job is kind of taking over his life.”

  Ned Nickerson, Nancy’s longtime boyfriend, had a steady summer job at Mutual Life, a large insurance company in nearby Mapleton. This summer Ned had been assigned to the claims department. It was an important job, and he was taking his new duties very seriously. A little too seriously, Nancy was beginning to think.

  “Yeah, he has been pretty tied up, hasn’t he?” Bess commented. “I’ve only seen him once since he got back from Emerson.”

  “Tell me about it!” Nancy exclaimed. “He’s been home from college for almost a month, and I’ve seen him only a few times! He works late almost every night. And when I do see him, all he ever talks about is life as a claims detective.”

  “Claims detective, huh?” echoed George. Her big brown eyes creased at the corners as she smiled. “So now we’ve got a detective duo—Drew and Nickerson.”

  At eighteen, Nancy already had an excellent reputation as an amateur detective. She had a natural talent for solving mysteries, and she loved doing it, too.

  “Hey, you don’t think Ned’s stepping on your toes, do you?” George asked suddenly.

  Before Nancy could answer, Bess cut in. “Oh, George, don’t be silly,” she scoffed. “Ned often helps Nancy out on her cases. I’m sure she feels the same way about helping him. Hey, Nan!” She turned to Nancy, her pretty face shining with excitement. “Maybe you and Ned should go into business together. Nickerson-Drew Investigations. Wouldn’t that be romantic?”

  “Nickerson-Drew Investigations?” Nancy arched a slender brow at Bess. “Why not Drew-Nickerson?”

  “Whatever.” Bess waved a hand impatiently.

  Her smile fading, Nancy poked at the mound of ice cream in her plastic dish. “I don’t know,” she said slowly. “I’m not sure I like Ned’s style. I mean, I’m glad he enjoys his job, but does he have to be so gung-ho about it? And he’s getting really suspicious of people. I guess he comes across a lot of false claims, but it’s weird to see him so distrustful when he’s usually so sweet.”

  “Nan, are you going to eat that last bite of ice cream?” Bess broke in.

  George laughed. “Bess’s killer instincts never fail when it comes to ice cream.”

  “It’s yours, Bess,” Nancy said. She pushed the dish across the table, then glanced at her watch and stood up. “I should go. I’m picking Ned up in Mapleton in two and a half hours, and I have to get ready. See you guys later, okay?”

  “Hey, Nan—knock his socks off,” Bess called after Nancy as she walked away.

  Nancy smiled to herself. With the dress she’d just bought, she hoped to do just that.

  • • •

  At seven-fifteen that evening Nancy pulled her blue Mustang up to the curb in front of the Mutual Life offices in Mapleton. Ned said he’d be waiting out front for her, but she didn’t see him anywhere. Oh, well, she thought, he’s probably on his way down. She made a quick check of her reflection in the rearview mirror, fluffing out her shoulder-length hair one last time. Then she sat back to wait.

  Five minutes later there was still no sign of Ned. Fighting a twinge of annoyance, Nancy gazed out the window, letting her eyes run over the Mutual Life building complex.

  Mutual Life had started out as a life and health insurance company. Then, about five years earlier, they had bought out a small car insurance company. After that, the original marble-fronted building just wasn’t big enough to hold the growing business, so the company had built an ultramodern annex, which was joined to the original building by a glass-and-steel enclosed walkway. Nancy thought the annex was ugly, but she supposed it served a purpose.

  By seven-thirty Nancy had checked her watch about twenty times and was getting irritated. She was about to get out of the car and go to his office when Ned came through the revolving glass doors of the annex and dashed over to Nancy’s Mustang.

  “Hey, gorgeous! Sorry I’m late,” he said, bending down to kiss her through the open window. “I got caught on the phone.”

  At the sight of his handsome face and warm brown eyes, Nancy felt her annoyance melt away. “No problem,” she murmured, looping a hand around his neck to catch another kiss.

  After their lips parted, Ned went around to the passenger side and climbed in. Nancy started the car and drove off toward Conchita’s, the restaurant they had planned to try tha
t night.

  “Wow, what a day,” Ned remarked, loosening his tie and settling his tall frame into the car seat. “I spent most of it arguing with this woman who’s trying to make Mutual Life pay for the face-lift she just got. Can you believe it? I tried to explain to her that health insurance is meant to take care of people’s bills when they’re sick, not when they want a new look. But she wouldn’t stop bugging me. I’m telling you, it’s amazing what people try to get away with.”

  “Mmmm,” Nancy said in a neutral voice. It was great to see Ned so enthusiastic about his work, but she was a little disappointed that he hadn’t even noticed her new dress.

  “I had a talk with Joe Packard today—you know, the head of my department,” Ned went on.

  “About what?” asked Nancy.

  “He says I’m doing a good job, but I shouldn’t push myself so hard.”

  Nancy nodded. She wasn’t the only one who thought Ned was too involved in his work. “Well, maybe you should listen to Mr. Packard,” she said.

  Ned shrugged. “I don’t know—I don’t think Joe’s heart is really in the job anymore. He used to be a real dragon. Everyone said he made our department what it is. But now—His wife died a few months back. They were separated, but he must have still loved her. Andy, my office mate, says Packard hasn’t been the same since then.”

  “Poor guy,” Nancy said sympathetically. “It must be hard for him.”

  They parked down the block from Conchita’s. “So what did you do today?” Ned asked as they walked up the street.

  “I went shopping with Bess and George,” Nancy told him, smoothing the skirt of her peach dress with one hand. Now he’ll notice, she thought.

  But Ned just nodded. “That’s nice,” he said, and immediately went back to talking about work.

  Nancy held back a sigh. I get just as single-minded when I’m working on a case, she reminded herself. Ned always listens to me. So I can listen to his problems at work for a change!

  “I’m so glad we’re finally eating here,” Nancy said as they entered the restaurant. She was looking forward to trying Conchita’s. It had opened a few months earlier, and she’d heard it had great Mexican food and a terrific atmosphere.

  Glancing around, she knew she wouldn’t be disappointed. The place was nearly full. Colorful sombreros hung on the walls, and stuffed cloth cacti rose nearly to the ceiling. An old-fashioned jukebox was blasting music by mariachi bands, while waiters and waitresses in embroidered vests bustled through the festive room. They and the guests all seemed to be enjoying themselves immensely.

  “Hey, this looks great,” Ned said as the hostess led them to a table. He sniffed the air. “Smells great, too. I’m starved!”

  As Nancy and Ned were seated, Nancy noticed the girl at the table next to theirs because she was getting up to leave. The girl, a few years older than Nancy, maybe twenty-two, had carefully tousled blond hair that looked as if it had half a can of mousse in it. Her mascara was so heavy that her eyelashes looked like the legs of a spider, and her blusher made red bars on her cheeks. The girl’s companion was a slender man of about twenty-five, with slicked-back hair and a mustache.

  “I’ll be right back, Toby,” the girl said, giggling. “I’m just going to powder my nose.”

  “Don’t be long, sweetheart,” the man replied in a sugary voice. He blew the girl a kiss, and she giggled again.

  “I’ll get the car,” Toby added. “But the night is still young. Shall we go dancing?”

  “Oooh, yes, Toby,” the girl cooed, then walked away with tiny mincing steps. Toby stood and headed for the door.

  “Whew!” Nancy said, letting out her breath. “Talk about sickly sweet!”

  Ned had noticed the couple, too, and he was frowning. “I know I’ve seen that girl somewhere,” he muttered. “I just can’t think of—Hey!” He leaned over and picked up a plastic card that was lying on the just-vacated table. “That guy left his credit card behind.”

  Nancy jumped up. “Maybe we can catch him—” she began, but she broke off suddenly and stared at her boyfriend.

  The expression on Ned’s face was one of anger as he stared down at the card in his hand. “That crook!” he said. Then he set off for the door.

  “Ned, what’s going on?” asked Nancy, confused. She hurried after him, but Ned didn’t stop or turn around. He marched up to Toby and clapped a hand on his shoulder.

  “Is your name Foyle?” Ned demanded.

  “Yes, why?” Toby looked puzzled.

  “You’re supposed to be laid up, Mr. Foyle,” Ned snapped. “You had a car accident a month ago, or did you forget?”

  “An accident?” Foyle’s eyes widened, and Nancy read fear in them.

  “You got a hundred thousand dollars in damages, for head injuries your doctor said were so bad you’d be disabled for months. Maybe you forgot that, too,” Ned went on angrily. “But I investigated your insurance claim, and I haven’t forgotten.”

  “What are you talking about?” Toby Foyle took a step backward. “What accident? What money? You’ve got the wrong guy, mister!”

  Nancy just stared at Ned. Why was he confronting this man, a total stranger, in the middle of their date?

  “The wrong guy?” Ned repeated. “I don’t think so. You put in a false claim.” Nancy saw Ned’s hands clench into fists at his sides as he growled, “You’re in deep trouble, Mr. Foyle.”

  Chapter

  Two

  TOBY FOYLE’S FACE turned the color of skim milk. “What are you, some kind of lunatic?” he shouted at Ned, putting his hands up protectively. “Get away from me!”

  “I’m no lunatic,” Ned said, glaring at Foyle. “But you’re a fraud, mister.”

  “Ned, please!” Nancy could hardly believe what was happening. Could this furious guy be the Ned Nickerson she knew and loved?

  By this time the entire crowd was silent and staring at Ned and Foyle. Suddenly a man in a dark suit burst through the front door. “I’m the manager. What’s the trouble here?” he asked crisply.

  “The trouble is, this guy is a maniac!” Foyle cried. He pointed a finger at Ned, and Nancy could see that his hand was shaking. “He tried to attack me!”

  “Ned didn’t attack anyone,” Nancy broke in, but the manager paid no attention to her. He turned to Ned with an accusing stare.

  “Mr. Foyle here has gotten his hands on a lot of money illegally,” Ned insisted. “I happen to know because I’m an insurance claims investigator. He stated he was disabled in a car accident, but he doesn’t look disabled to me. I just want to see justice done.”

  Foyle was still pale. “I’m telling you, you’ve got the wrong guy!” he said again.

  “Ned, there’s got to be more than one Foyle in Mapleton,” Nancy put in urgently.

  “Look, I don’t care what the gentleman’s name is,” the manager said, glowering at Ned and Nancy. “All I know is, he’s a guest in my restaurant and you’re harassing him.” The manager jabbed a finger at Ned’s chest. “I want you out of here now.”

  “But—” Ned began.

  The manager cut him off. “Now!” he repeated sternly. “Or do I have to call the police?”

  Ned’s jaw tensed. “You won’t get away with this,” he told Foyle. Then he tossed Foyle’s credit card on the floor, turned, and stalked out of the restaurant.

  Nancy was shocked and embarrassed by Ned’s rude behavior. “I-I’m really sorry,” she murmured to the manager. Then she hurried after her boyfriend. When she caught up with Ned, he was leaning against her car, scowling.

  “What in the world did you think you were doing in there?” Nancy burst out.

  “That guy is getting away with fraud!” Ned fumed.

  Nancy drew a deep breath. How could he be so sure? “Move aside and let me unlock the car,” she said. “Let’s go to your house. We can talk about it on our way.”

  Ned went around to the passenger side and climbed in. As Nancy pulled out into the street, she asked, “Don’t you th
ink you could have made a mistake about who the guy was? Have you ever met him before?”

  “No, not in person,” Ned admitted. “We do most of our investigations by phone. But it wasn’t a mistake,” he insisted. “The name on the credit card was the same. T. N. Foyle. I remember seeing it when the claim came over my desk and thinking, T. N. Foyle—I wonder if people call him Tinfoil? How could there be two people in Mapleton with that same name?”

  “I don’t know, Ned,” Nancy said, frustrated. “But how do you know that guy in the restaurant is even from Mapleton? There are lots of other towns around here. The point is, even if it could be the same guy, you didn’t have enough evidence to go gunning for him the way you did.”

  “But I know I was right!” Ned said hotly.

  Nancy blew out a breath with a whoosh. “Right or wrong, you still have to build a case—”

  “Nan, I know you’re a great detective, but please don’t lecture me on how to do my job,” Ned interrupted. He raked a hand through his hair. “If you think I was wrong, fine. Let’s just not talk about it anymore.”

  Nancy clamped her mouth shut, feeling stung. Why wouldn’t Ned just admit that he’d overreacted? She drove in silence until they reached Ned’s street. Then she steered to the curb in front of the Nickerson house and stopped the car.

  “Do you want to come in?” Ned asked in a chilly voice.

  Nancy was hurt by his tone. “No,” she retorted. “I think this date is pretty much over, don’t you?”

  “I guess so.” Ned got out of the car and strode across the lawn to his front door.

  Nancy watched him go inside. She was still sitting there a minute later when the porch light clicked off.

  It was practically pitch-black on the street, thanks to the drooping boughs of the huge willows that lined the sidewalk and blocked the light from the street lamps. Nancy sat in the car for a few more minutes, staring into the darkness and trying to figure out what had gone wrong.

  She’d been so happy to see Ned, but he’d hardly paid any attention to her. If only he wasn’t on the job all the time, none of this would have happened. Why did he jump all over me when it’s obvious he was wrong?