Sisters in Crime (4 page)

N
ANCY WAS FIRST
aware of the cool sand against her back and head and the feeling of nausea in her stomach. Then, in one burst, she was fully awake and felt nothing but the pulsating pain along the side of her face and in her head.

Images swam in her head as she forced her mind to try to remember where she was. She could not will her eyes to open. The ocean, the beach, Lori Westerly, all that came floating back to her. Lori? Where was she? Hurt? Getting help?

Then one image took hold in her mind and forced out all the others—the image of a man's hand on her arm, and on that hand a ring.

Something about that ring, Nancy thought. Something about that ring . . . She shoved her pain aside, so she could concentrate on recapturing what that ring looked like. It was red. Ruby red. Two gold letters were on the stone, she remembered. Greek letters!

Nancy tried to focus only on her powers of concentration. If she didn't identify those letters now, she feared that they would be lost to her forever.

The Greek letter that looked like a triangular
E
and the capital letter
K
moved across her mind's eye. That would be Sigma Kappa.

And then suddenly Nancy became aware of another hand, this one gentle and holding her own. A voice quietly asked, “Nancy?”

Finally Nancy did open her eyes to look into those of Ira, who was kneeling next to her.

“Hello,” Nancy said weakly.

“What happened, Nancy?” Ira asked. “Are you all right?”

Rolling over on her elbow to prepare to stand up, Nancy said only, “Two guys—” But a searing pain shot through her jaw, and she couldn't continue.

“Better come to my shop and get a cold cloth on that,” he said, lifting her to her feet. “You can tell me about this there.”

Nancy nodded and stood bent over, leaning on Ira for support. Just then Lori came sprinting down the beach toward them.

“Nancy, are you okay?” she called. Looking at Nancy's swollen face, Lori said, “Oh, no. They hurt you.” Lori glanced quickly at Ira and then back at Nancy as she apologized, “I'm sorry I ran away, Nancy, but I thought I'd be of more use if I got help. But when I got up to the pier, I saw those two guys, still wearing their swim mask, running away,” Lori explained. “So I turned around and came right back to you.”

“You did the right thing,” Nancy said, reassuring her. As she started to stand fully upright, she let out a loud groan. Her head was pounding.

“How badly are you hurt?” Lori asked with concern.

Nancy answered, “Not very. I'll live, I'm afraid. Oh, Lori, this is Ira.”

“Hi, Ira,” Lori said hastily, then turned again to Nancy. “I better take you back to the house to get something cold on that bruise.”

“We can do that right over at the diving facility.” Ira pointed to his building. “We were just going to head that way.”

“Are you sure that's okay?” Lori questioned Nancy.

Nancy nodded. “Fine.”

Hesitating, Lori asked, “Do you mind if I take that swim we were planning? I really have to swim every day, and as long as you'll be okay—”

“No problem,” Nancy said. “I sure don't have two miles in me now. But I'll wait for you up
there,” she said, gesturing in the direction of Ira's shop.

Holding Ira's arm, Nancy tried to move without jarring her head. Even so, the pain was excruciating. When they reached the repair shop, Ira helped Nancy down onto a chair, gave her a cool cloth and a warm blanket, then pulled up a chair to sit across from her. Nancy leaned her aching head against the wall.

“How do you feel?” Ira asked gently.

“Terrific, from the neck down,” Nancy answered.

“I think maybe I should take you to the emergency room to let a doctor take a look at you.”

“No thanks.” Nancy moved her jaw, checking to see if she had full mobility. “I'm sure nothing's broken. Just a shock to my system. As long as I keep this on it and get some rest, I'll be fine.”

“If you change your mind, let me know. It's no problem,” Ira offered kindly. “How about something to drink? A soda? Juice?”

“Either,” Nancy said as Ira went into the back room.

“What did you see?” Ira asked as he handed Nancy a paper cup full of apple juice and sat back down across from her.

“Not much,” Nancy answered between sips. “Two guys, wearing swimmers' masks and trunks. Big and strong. One with dark, curly hair. Lori and I were just taking off our shorts and jackets—”

“That's Lori Westerly?” Ira asked, interrupting.

Nancy nodded.

“Rina talked about her a lot,” Ira said quietly. “Rina was very attached to her. Sorry, go on.

“Out of the blue, these two guys appeared. They must have been following us, but we were totally unaware.”

Ira looked upset. “So much violence on this beach!” Standing up, he said to Nancy, “I had told myself to stop thinking that Rina's death wasn't an accident, but after talking to you and Susan this morning, and now this”—Ira gestured to Nancy's face—“I'm ready to go to the police and insist they open the investigation again!”

Nancy wanted more time to investigate on her own, to live in the sorority, and to understand Rina's life. She knew that sometimes she could learn more undercover, from people her own age, than the police could.

As she sipped her apple juice, Nancy wanted to tell Ira the truth, but she kept quiet. Although he seemed very nice, and although she felt she could trust him, it was still too soon to know for certain. Ira was in a perfect position to tamper with someone's diving equipment. And what was he doing down at the beach just after Nancy had been attacked? Lucky coincidence, or something more sinister?

“Are you saying the two incidents are connected?” Nancy asked innocently.

“No,” Ira answered, “I don't see how that could be. They were probably just tough kids, like Lori said. Kids who get their kicks out of terrorizing people.” Ira tightened his hands into fists. “And nothing gets me madder.”

Hoping Ira would drop his idea of calling in the police, Nancy said, “I'm sure that was it. They were just having ‘fun.' ”

But maybe not, she thought. Maybe they really were after her and Lori!

• • •

“Is there anyone,” Nancy asked Lori as they drove back to the sorority house, “who might want to hurt you—for any reason?”

Her wet blond hair brushed straight back off her face, Lori shook her head.

“Not that I know of. I think we were just in the wrong place at the wrong time.” Glancing quickly at Nancy, Lori said, “Should I ask you the same question? Anybody want to hurt you for any reason you know of?”

“Nobody even knows me here,” Nancy answered.

“It looked like you knew that guy Ira. Didn't you?” Lori asked.

“Not really. Susan and I met him just this morning at the diving facility,” Nancy answered.

“Oh.” Lori parked her car back at the house. “There's random violence on every beach in the
world,” she said thoughtfully. “Friends of mine were on an empty beach in Thailand—on the other side of the globe—and got beat up terribly.”

Seeing how important it was for Lori to believe the attack was not meant specifically for them, Nancy didn't disagree.

She gingerly got out of the car, holding her aching head steady. Whatever dangerous thing Rina knew, Nancy thought, it's possible that Lori knows it, too. Nancy glanced over at Lori. And if someone wanted Rina Charles dead, then maybe Lori Westerly would be the next victim!

O
H,
N
ANCY,
I'
M
so glad you're okay!” Susan jumped up as Nancy entered her room. “Ira called and told me what happened. How do you feel?”

Nancy touched her bruised jaw. “A little tender, but fine otherwise,” she said, and flopped down on her bed, without mentioning the dizziness and headache she also felt.

After Nancy described the surprise attack, Susan asked, “What do you think, Nan? Was this connected in any way to what we know?”

“That's the question I've been asking myself, too,” Nancy said, staring at one of Rina's remarkable underwater photographs. “Is Lori
Westerly next on somebody's hit list? Or . . . ?” Nancy rolled onto her side to try to get more comfortable.

“Or what?” Susan asked.

“Or has someone
already
figured out that I'm a detective, and what I'm after?”

Susan looked frightened.

“Lori believes that it was just random violence,” Nancy said. “The kind that can happen anywhere.”

“It can,” Susan agreed. “And I suppose that's the most likely answer.” Looking down at her friend, she said, “But I bet you don't buy it.”

Nancy smiled up at her. “Not yet,” she said.

Susan said, “I'll be quiet now and let you get some rest.” But before she left the room, Susan added, “Oh, just one more thing. When Ira called, he asked if you and I would like to go out Wednesday night with him and a friend of his. He said he felt bad that you'd gotten such an awful welcome to San Diego—and thinks you need some fun.”

Still smiling, Nancy said, “You like Ira, don't you?”

“I guess you don't have to be a detective to see that,” Susan replied with a grin.

“So you want to go out with them Wednesday night?” Nancy asked her friend.

“I'd love it. Will you come?”

“I'm not sure how Ned would feel.”

“It's not a real date,” Susan said. “Just think
that you're my chaperon. Ned would have to understand that.”

Nancy laughed as she cautiously rolled onto her back. “Okay, okay. You've convinced me. I'll join you.”

• • •

“Did Rina drive her own car to the beach that day?” Nancy asked Susan the next morning as they sat on the floor sorting through Rina's possessions and putting them in boxes.

“Yes. It was found on the highway near the beach. I drove down with Debbie and we brought it back here.

“It might be nice if we packed everything before tonight,” Susan suggested. “Mrs. Charles said that she and her son would be here early tomorrow to pick up the car, along with Rina's other stuff.”

“Yes,” Nancy agreed. “The less they have to do, the better. This can't be easy for them.”

Susan shook her head as she folded clothes. Nancy was packing Rina's books and looking through her papers for any kind of a clue.

“What's this name?” Nancy asked. “Rina's doodled it over and over in the margin of her notebook.”

“It looks like Peterson to me,” Susan answered, examining the page.

“But it's in two different handwritings,” Nancy explained. “Someone in her class could have written the name down for her, and then
Rina could have copied it. See, the second handwriting matches the rest of the notes. Do you know who Peterson is?”

“No idea,” Susan answered.

Nancy made a mental note of the name and continued looking through Rina's things but found nothing except the usual notebooks and class materials.

“You know,” Susan said, “I was hesitant to join this sorority.”

“Why?” Nancy asked.

“I don't like it when some people are chosen and others are left out.”

“What made you change your mind?” Nancy asked, putting a pile of books into a carton.

“Well, Delta Phi has the highest academic standing on campus. They really do emphasize good grades in this sorority,” Susan explained.

“It seems as though they also emphasize good looks,” Nancy said.

“I guess,” Susan said, and smiled. Although Susan wore no makeup and had her hair cut in a short and easy style, she was still a beauty. Her light blue eyes and black hair were striking. “I think that's why Rina was feeling so low. She felt neither pretty enough nor smart enough to be a Delta Phi.”

“She looks very attractive here,” Nancy said, examining a photo of Rina sitting on the porch of the sorority house.

Folding a sweater, Susan walked around and
looked over Nancy's shoulder. “Rina wore thick glasses and was self-conscious about them. She always took them off for pictures. She had terrible astigmatism that contact lenses couldn't correct. Her glasses really did change her appearance. But I bet you won't find one picture of her with her glasses on.”

“But wait,” Nancy said. “Didn't I just see them here?” She walked to Rina's dresser and spotted the glasses, then she asked, “How many pairs did she own?”

“Two. She always kept an old pair in her top desk drawer,” Susan answered. “Why?”

Swinging around, Nancy opened the desk, and there, in a gold case, was the extra pair.

“I assume she couldn't drive without them?” Nancy asked.