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Authors: Carolyn Keene

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BOOK: Choosing Sides
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“Why is that?” Kyle asked.

“Caroline,” Hector interrupted, sticking his head in the door, “we have to be across town to meet the teachers' union in fifteen minutes.”

“Be right out,” Caroline replied, then looked at Kyle. “Steve can be mean, but he never had the stomach for battle. I just can't believe he'd organize this whole thing. Let me know at the rally if you find out anything new.” She grabbed her briefcase and hurried out the door.

Nancy had been so busy investigating, that she'd forgotten about the rally that night. “We'll be there!” she called after Caroline. After the candidate left, Nancy pulled her notebook from her shoulder bag and reached for the phone.

“Trying the other number again?” Bess asked.

Nancy nodded. This time, someone answered after the second ring.

“Hello?” said a woman's throaty voice.

Nancy's mind raced as she tried to think of a way to find out who the person was without arousing suspicion. “Um, hi, Vera, this is Sandy,” Nancy chirped in a bright voice.

“Who?” the woman asked.

“Oh, I'm sorry. You aren't Vera Millhouse?” Nancy said. She noticed that Kyle and Bess were looking at her as if she were crazy.

The woman sounded annoyed as she said, “No, you must have the wrong number.”

“This isn't the Millhouses' residence?” Nancy pressed.

“No,” the woman snapped. “This is the home of Steve Hill. There is no Vera Millhouse at this number!” Then the woman hung up with a bang.

“All right!” Nancy shouted as she replaced the receiver in its cradle. “You guys, this number is for Steve Hill's house!”

“Really?” Bess said, her eyes widening. “Then he was probably the one who gave Brenda the photo!”

“It looks like it,” Nancy replied.

“So now what do we do?” Kyle asked.

“First, I want to stop by the police station and look at Bobby Rouse's police report,” Nancy said. “While I'm gone, could the two of you call Ned and find out if Steve Hill is working at Gleason's all afternoon? See if you can get Hill's address from Ned, too. I think it's time we checked out his house.”

Kyle elbowed Bess lightly in the ribs. “Hey, this investigating stuff is pretty exciting,” he said. “Especially when I'm working with you.”

Bess's cheeks turned bright red. “Sherlock here is really eager to get on the case, Nan. You'd
better hurry, or he'll go over to Steve Hill's without us!”

• • •

When Nancy arrived at the River Heights police headquarters, Chief McGinnis introduced her to one of the officers who had arrested Bobby Rouse, a blond-haired young man named Officer Denning.

“Well, it's not official policy, but seeing as you're a friend of Chief McGinnis, you can have a look at the report,” he said, leading Nancy to a metal desk in the open room behind the receiving sergeant. He picked up a few typed pages from the desk and handed them to Nancy.

Still standing, she eagerly scanned the report. Rouse had been arrested at 1:45
P.M
., just a few streets from the construction site. Nancy noted his home address, but she didn't see anything else that would help her.

“Have you questioned Rouse yet?” she asked.

“My partner's talking to him,” Officer Denning told her. Glancing toward a set of glass doors at the rear of the room, he said, “In fact, there they are now.”

Nancy looked over and saw Bobby Rouse being led through the doorway in handcuffs by a stout, balding police officer. “Hey, Pete, we need you in interrogation,” the heavyset officer called to Officer Denning.

Nancy couldn't resist trying to talk to Rouse.
She walked toward him, but his face hardened when he saw her.

“You again!” Rouse exclaimed.

“Mr. Rouse, you know Caroline Hill wasn't involved in any fencing ring,” Nancy said, ignoring the curious stares of Officer Denning and his partner. “Who paid you to pose in that photo?”

Rouse looked straight ahead and refused to meet her gaze. “Look, I'm not talking to any reporters.”

Nancy blinked. He thought she was a reporter? So
that
was why he had taken off when she approached him at the diner. “I'm a detective, not a reporter. Who paid you to pose for that photograph? Was it Steve Hill?”

Nancy thought she saw Rouse's eyes shift nervously, but before he could say anything, Officer Denning's partner broke in. “Look, I'm sorry, miss,” he said firmly. “Only his lawyer is allowed to talk to him. Come on, Pete.”

With that, the officer led Bobby Rouse back down the hallway. “Sorry, but rules are rules,” Officer Denning said. After taking the police report from Nancy, he followed his partner.

Another dead end, Nancy thought, letting out a sigh of frustration. She just hoped that Kyle, Bess, and she had better luck at Steve Hill's house later.

• • •

“Ned told us that Steve would be handing out Gleason pamphlets until seven or so,” Bess told
Nancy a short while later. The two girls and Kyle were driving toward Steve Hill's neighborhood in Nancy's Mustang.

Nancy checked her watch. “Good, that gives us two hours,” she said. A few minutes later, she pulled up next to the curb a safe distance from Steve Hill's modest split-level house.

“What are we looking for?” Kyle asked as they all got out of the car.

“Anything connecting him to that photograph or to the phony story about Caroline,” Nancy said.

She started toward the house, then motioned for the others to stop. “Wait, a car's pulling out of his driveway!”

The three pretended to talk casually, but Nancy kept her eye on the big sedan. She caught a glimpse of a red-haired woman behind the wheel. As the woman drove away, Nancy noted her license plate number.

“I wonder if that's the woman you talked to on the phone?” Bess asked as Nancy scribbled down the number on her pad.

“Maybe,” Nancy said, but she was already thinking ahead. “Bess, you'd better stay here as lookout while Kyle and I try to get into Hill's house.”

Nervous, Bess looked up and down the street. “Okay, but hurry!”

After knocking on the door to make sure no one was home, Nancy said, “Let's try around
back. I don't want anyone to see us breaking in the front door.”

“Good idea,” Kyle agreed.

Nancy led the way around the back and tried the door there, but it was locked.

“Now what?” Kyle asked.

Nancy was rummaging through her bag. “I've got my lock-picking kit with me.”

“Wow,” Kyle said. “You really
are
a pro.”

Nancy smiled as she pulled out a narrow strip of metal. Suddenly she heard someone shout, “Stop!”

Nancy turned—and gasped. Kyle was struggling with someone!

The person had his back to Nancy, and all she saw was a glimpse of red hair. Then the man pushed Kyle away and whirled around to face Nancy. It was Steve Hill!

“You two are lucky I don't have a gun,” he growled, “or you'd both be dead right now!”

Chapter

Six

N
ANCY FELT A CHILL
pass from head to toe. What had happened to Bess? Nancy wondered.

“I ought to shoot you punks for trespassing,” Steve said menacingly. He bent to pick up a bulging manila envelope that he'd dropped on the grass. “It's a good thing I was passing out these pamphlets in this neighborhood. If I hadn't decided to cut through my backyard to the next street, you'd be inside robbing me blind right now.”

“Hey, we're not thieves!” Kyle said defensively.

Steve Hill looked dubiously from Nancy to Kyle and back to Nancy again. “Yeah, tell me about it.”

Nancy decided to be direct. “Mr. Hill, I'm a detective, and my friends are helping me investigate
the allegations against Caroline Hill. We're here because we have reason to believe you're the one who gave the story to
Today's Times.”

“What makes you think the story isn't true?” he demanded. “I gave that photograph and story to the newspaper because Caroline really
is
a criminal. I don't have to make up stories about her!”

“You mean you actually
believe
the story about the fencing ring?” Kyle asked.

Steve Hill nodded emphatically. “Since you're so sure the story is true,” Nancy said, “then I'm sure you won't mind telling us who gave you that photograph.”

“You're a nervy kid, aren't you?” Hill sneered. “It doesn't matter who it came from. All that matters is that Caroline be exposed for the lying crook she really is!”

Nancy pulled her copy of the article out of her shoulder bag and held it out to Steve Hill. “If the article is true, then how do you explain the missing bracelet in this photo?” she demanded. “Caroline never removes the medical ID bracelet she wears—you must know that. So why isn't the woman in the photograph wearing one?”

A glimmer of doubt crossed Hill's face as he stared at the grainy picture. “The quality of that photograph is terrible,” he argued, but Nancy noticed that he didn't sound so sure of himself anymore. “It just doesn't show up.”

He shoved the clipping back at Nancy. “Now,
why don't you two get out of here before I call the cops,” he threatened. “And tell Caroline not to send any more of her juvenile delinquents around here again!”

Nancy and Kyle hurried back to the car, where they found Bess nervously pacing the sidewalk. “You guys, I'm so sorry! By the time I saw that red-haired man, he was already cutting through the yard to the back. I sneaked around to warn you, but he had already caught you. Was that Steve Hill?”

Kyle nodded. “Don't worry about it, Bess,” he said, giving her arm a squeeze. “At least he didn't call the police.”

As the three of them drove back toward the campaign headquarters, Kyle and Nancy told Bess about their confrontation with Steve Hill. “Someone else definitely fed him that story, but he wouldn't say who,” Nancy explained.

Bess bit her lip. “So far Patrick Gleason is the only person we know with any motive to ruin Caroline's reputation. But I still can't believe he'd do that.”

“I hope you're right, but we can't know for sure without concrete proof,” Nancy said. “I'm glad the rally for Caroline is in a few hours. Right now, I could use a distraction from this case!”

• • •

“The speeches are going great,” Bess whispered later Monday evening. She, Nancy, and Bess were standing at the rear of the River
Heights High School auditorium. The place was packed.

Several people had brought up the newspaper article, but Nancy thought Hector and Caroline had done a good job of handling the problem.

“I can assure you,” Caroline was now saying, “that we will find out who is behind this vicious attack and win this race!”

As Caroline continued speaking, Nancy was glad to see the crowd's enthusiasm building. When the candidate finished, the entire auditorium erupted in cheers.

Nancy, Bess, and Kyle made their way to the front of the auditorium to talk to Caroline. When they got there, they found her surrounded by people. “Looks like she'll be busy for a while,” Kyle said. “Let's get something to eat.” He nodded toward one wall where a table of punch and snacks had been set up.

They were just finished eating some chips and dip when Caroline joined them. “What a nice turnout,” she said, filling a glass with punch. “Did you make any progress finding out who planted the story?”

Nancy told Caroline about her visit to the police station and the confrontation with Steve Hill. “We still don't know who fed Steve the story, though,” Nancy finished.

“It figures that he'd be willing to believe that trash about me,” Caroline said. “Oh—I almost forgot to tell you. Someone from the DA's office
called me just before the rally. Bobby Rouse is out on bail.”

“Where did he get the money?” Bess asked.

Caroline shrugged. “Good question. It was a stiff bail, thirty thousand dollars. I have a theory, though. It's been my experience as a lawyer that the longer someone sits in jail, the more willing he is to talk.”

“So you think someone might have sprung Rouse in order to keep him from talking?” Nancy asked.

“Maybe,” Caroline replied. “Jerry! Thanks for coming,” she said, turning to a man who tapped her on the shoulder. With an apologetic smile at Nancy, Caroline said, “We'll talk more tomorrow, okay?” Then she disappeared into the crowd.

Nancy turned to Bess and Kyle. “I want to find out who bailed out Bobby Rouse. It might be the person who got him to pose for that photo.”

“We won't have much time tomorrow,” Kyle told her. “I have to work at your dad's office, and you and Bess have to attend Caroline's speech in the park.”

Nancy raised an eyebrow. “True, but there's always tonight,” she said, glancing at her watch. “It's eight-thirty now.”

BOOK: Choosing Sides
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