010 Buried Secrets Read Free Page A

said.
    “The tower window?” Nancy asked, picturing Harrington House in her mind. “That’s where he fell from?”
    “According to all the experts.” Brenda looked infuriatingly smug. “What do you have to say about that, Detective Drew?”
    “Well, I’m not sure,” Nancy said honestly. “But don’t you have a story to file, Brenda? You just witnessed an assassination attempt. What are you doing talking to me?”
    Brenda looked startled. “Oh, you think you know everything, don’t you?” she asked. But she was already cramming her notebook and tape recorder into her bag.
    “See you soon,” said Nancy, strolling away.
    Once she was alone, she began to think about what Brenda had told her. If John Harrington had fallen from a tower window, the case was entirely different because you don’t slip and fall from awindow like that. You either jump—or you’re pushed.
    And now to find Bess and George. She was going to need that ride home after all.
    • • •
    Nancy went to bed thinking about John Harrington’s death. But when she woke up, she was thinking about Ned. Why hadn’t he called? Of course, all he’d said was “Can I call you later?” but Nancy couldn’t help thinking he’d have called her that night. His break from college wasn’t going to last forever.
    But maybe, she worried, he didn’t really want to work things out. Maybe he still thought her detective work would come between them. Nancy hoped not—because there was no way she was going to stop.
    Nancy kicked back the covers in frustration and got out of bed. Still in her yellow thigh-length T-shirt, she did a few sit-ups, brushed her teeth, and went downstairs and into the kitchen.
    Hannah Gruen, the housekeeper who’d been with the Drews since Nancy was three, was already there, unloading the dishwasher. When she saw Nancy, she smiled. “Good morning. You’re up early.”
    “I know,” Nancy said with a yawn. “I tried to sleep longer, but the sun was too bright.” Stillyawning, she poured herself a glass of orange juice and sat down at the kitchen table. But when she had unrolled the newspaper and seen the front page, she stopped yawning.
    “Hometown Detective Saves Life of Harrington,” ran the headline. Above that was a photo of Nancy and Todd Harrington shaking hands, and the story below it, with Brenda Carlton’s byline, covered almost half the front page.
    Nancy grinned. Brenda must have really hated having to mention me at all, she thought. She sipped some more juice and started to read the story, but the phone rang before she got very far. Hannah picked it up.
    “It’s Bess,” Hannah said. “She’s all excited about something—maybe she won the lottery.”
    “Nan!” Bess shrieked after Nancy had taken the phone. “Why didn’t you tell us you’d saved his life? You didn’t mention one word in the car about what you’d done. I suppose you had a reason to be quiet. But now you’ve got to tell me all the important stuff. Like, what’s he like? Is he as gorgeous up close as he looks from far away?”
    “He sure is,” Nancy said, laughing. “Todd Harrington is definitely a hunk.”
    “And to think”—Bess sighed—“you got to shake hands with him. Maybe you can introduce me to him.”
    “I’ll probably never see him again, Bess.”
    “Sure you will,” Bess said. “You saved his life, so he owes you. And when he asks how he can repay you, just tell him you have this friend who’s dying to meet him! Oh, by the way,” she went on, “what are you going to do about Brenda? Are you going to accept?”
    “Accept what? What are you talking about?”
    “You mean you haven’t read it? Nancy, just turn to the editorial page. Brenda’s done it again!”
    After Nancy had hung up, she flipped through the newspaper until she came to the editorial page. There was a column called “In This Reporter’s Opinion.” That day, “This Reporter” was Brenda Carlton.
    “It seems to this reporter,” Brenda