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Authors: Carolyn Keene

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“Bess!” Nancy jostled her friend’s leg through the blanket. “It’s almost eleven o’clock.”

Bess peeked one half-open eye out from her cocoon. “Nan, don’t you know that people who’ve been through traumas need lots of rest?” She rolled over on her stomach.

“You seemed just fine at our midnight celebration supper. Remember putting away all those spare ribs?”

George came out of the bathroom, a towel wrapped like a turban around her wet hair. “Don’t even mention spare ribs. I ate enough last night for the rest of the week.”

“And you’re going to eat even more this afternoon at that luncheon the Chinatown Neighborhood Association is giving for us,” Nancy reminded her. “Mrs. Chen, she’s president of the association, told me that the community is incredibly grateful to all of us for helping to put James Li behind bars. What a bully! It wasn’t enough for him to pirate records and run all those other big-time illegal operations the police told us he had going. No, he had to muscle in on the small businesses in Chinatown, too.”

“Yeah, I can certainly understand why the community is so glad to see him go,” George said. “And it’s really nice of them to give us an honorary luncheon. But I don’t know if I’m going to be able to touch it.” She patted her lean, flat stomach.

“Don’t worry. I’ll help you out.” Bess finally
sat up in bed and stretched her arms over her head.

George rolled her eyes. “Well, look who finally rises at the mention of her favorite sport—eating.”

“Oh, come on, give me a break. How often do you get some of the best Chinese chefs this side of the Pacific to make a special meal just for you?”

“Not too often,” George answered. “And speaking of not too often, there’s something I’ve been wanting to ask you, Bess.”

“Yeah?”

“Alan said he went down to World Communications yesterday while you were out jogging. Since when have you turned into a jock?”

Bess made a face. “We-e-ell . . . I sort of ended up doing more shopping than jogging . . .”

“Figures,” George said. “So how much did that little jog cost you?”

Bess cringed. “I don’t think I should say.”

“Come on, spill it. What’d you blow?”

Bess pouted. “George, don’t tell me you’ve never gone out on a spur-of-the-moment shopping spree. How about that time you bought all those weights from the sports shop to use at home, and then you joined the gym, so you don’t even
need
your own weights?”

George frowned. “Well, at least I don’t go out running with a shopping bag and my wallet.”

Nancy sighed. “Okay, you two. No more arguing. From now on, this vacation’s going to be fun, fun, fun.”

“Famous last words,” George said.

Nancy shot George a mock glare. “Don’t even think it,” she said. “It
is
going to be a vacation. Even if it’s for just one more day.”

“Yeah, I wouldn’t mind some fun today either,” Bess agreed. “I think I deserve it after yesterday. Now I know where the expression ‘scared to death’ comes from. I honestly believed I was going to die of fright before those thugs even did anything to me.”

Nancy leaned over and tugged on Bess’s blond hair. “I know. It was a nightmare. But it’s all over.”

“Is it?” Bess punched her pillow, her expression sober. “Maybe for you, but I’ve got some serious thinking to do.”

“Alan?” Nancy asked softly.

Bess nodded. “He told lies to get what he wanted. I didn’t realize the boy I fell in love with would do something like that.”

George pulled a chair up next to the bed. “But he also saved our lives. Bess, your boyfriend’s a hero.”

“Maybe.”

“Barton and Roger sure seem to think so,” Nancy put in. “They wouldn’t have offered to help him out otherwise.”

“Yeah, just think of it, Bess. He might get his dream one day, after all,” George remarked.

“I’m thinking of it. But I’m also thinking that I want to take it more slowly with him. What happened made me realize that there’s a lot about Alan Wales I don’t know.”

“But you still feel something for him, don’t you?” Nancy asked.

“Well, when the chemistry’s right . . .” Bess’s round face grew pink.

“Good. Because I told Mrs. Chen to seat you two next to each other,” Nancy said with a laugh. “Oh, did I tell you that my dad’s bringing Ann Nordquist to the luncheon?”

George’s brown eyes opened wide. “Talk about chemistry!”

“Yeah. Dad’s really enjoying her company.” Nancy sighed. “I can’t tell you how glad I am to have a suspect turn out innocent.”

“And speaking of couples,” George said, giving Nancy a poke, “how are you and Ned doing?”

“I think we’re going to be all right.” Nancy smiled brightly. “As a matter of fact, this afternoon he’s taking me on a very special boat ride to a tiny island!” She raised her eyebrows suggestively. “It’s a start.”

“Sounds romantic,” Bess sighed.

Nancy giggled. “Yeah, it’s called the ferry to the Statue of Liberty! Now how about getting up,
Bess, or the guests of honor are going to miss their own luncheon.”

“And don’t take too long putting on your makeup,” George added.

“Okay, okay.” Bess climbed out of bed. “Are Barton and Roger and all the Fenders going to be there?”

“Absolutely,” Nancy replied. “Hey, did you know that Barton told me he’s going to write a song about us and the whole mystery? He’s going to call it ‘Scared to Death.’ ”

“Wow! You mean every time we turn on our radios in River Heights we’re going to hear about ourselves?” Bess asked.

“An instant souvenir,” Nancy answered.

“Maybe they’ll even make it into a video,” George said hopefully.

“That would be neat,” Nancy agreed. “And I know just the threesome to play the detective and her two friends. . . .”

This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

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Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

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