The Red Slippers (Nancy Drew Diaries #11)(8)

“Can I just see the file?” I asked. “So I know what was sent?”

“We can only show the file to the person who sent it,” Derek replied. “And I know for a fact that that wasn’t you, Nancy Drew, or you, Georgia Fayne,” he said, calling George by her full name.

George glowered at him. She hates being called Georgia.

“That’s also expressly written in our terms and conditions,” he continued smugly, crossing his arms with a satisfied smile. He seemed to be enjoying this.

“Well, how about this?” George said, apparently as frustrated with Derek as I was. “We’d like to pay for some Internet time.”

I gave George an approving nod. I knew she was thinking that she could use the network to access the company’s main system and get the file that way.

Unfortunately, Derek wasn’t dumb—just lazy. He knew exactly what George was thinking. “Sorry, girls. There will be no hacking of our system today. Our terms and conditions also say we can deny service to anyone, and I’m denying service to you both. Bye-bye now!” He popped his earbuds back in and turned away.

“What do we do now?” George asked.

I was asking myself the same question. This was our only lead so far, and I wasn’t sure of our next move.

“I can’t believe Derek Chase of all people is derailing our investigation,” I muttered.

“Hey, Nancy, look,” George said, gesturing toward the wall. I turned to see where she was pointing, and my jaw dropped. Hanging there was a photo of the CEO of the entire Sharp Image chain.

“That’s the guy—” George began.

“We saw yelling at his son outside the theater,” I finished.





CHAPTER FOUR





The Cat in the Chimney Trick


GEORGE OPENED HER MOUTH TO say more, but I quickly put my finger to my lips. I nodded my head toward Derek as I hustled George out the door. We needed to discuss this new development, but I wanted to talk as far away from his vindictive ears as possible. If he knew I suspected his boss (Michael Carter, according to the photo on the wall), he would come up with a way to sabotage my case in no time.

“I bet you Michael Carter destroyed the posters because he was mad about Colin dancing,” George burst out as soon as the door closed behind us.

“He did seem incredibly angry,” I acknowledged.

“More than angry,” George countered. “He seemed ashamed that his son danced, like he didn’t want anyone to know.”

I looked at George’s face. Her cheeks were bright red, and there was fire behind her narrowed eyes. It was rare to see George this angry. She was one of the most levelheaded people I knew, and she prided herself on her ability to make logical decisions without letting her feelings get in the way. Bess was the opposite. Extremely empathetic, her feelings dictated almost every decision she made. I was less emotional than Bess and more emotional than George, and having both perspectives had led to many detective breakthroughs. I knew George had been upset seeing Michael yell at Colin, but I hadn’t realized just how angry it had made her.

“You’re right,” I said. “But the vandalized poster seemed targeted at Maggie. Colin’s name wasn’t even crossed out,” I pointed out.

“Michael didn’t become the CEO of a major company by being dumb,” George countered. “Crossing out Maggie’s face makes the posters unusable, guaranteeing that a smaller audience will see his son dance. It also keeps the suspicion away from him. He’s worth investigating,” she insisted. “As CEO, he had access to the poster file, and he has a grudge against this ballet. Besides, do we have any better suspects?”

I wasn’t sure that Mr. Carter would travel to River Heights just to sabotage a poster, but if I had learned anything over the years, it was that every lead, no matter how unlikely, was worth following. Even if the person didn’t end up being the culprit, they often led to new information about the correct suspect.

“All right, “I said. “Let’s talk to Michael.”

“First we have to find him,” George noted.

“Yeah, but we know he’s from out of town, and it didn’t seem like he was planning on leaving without Colin. . . .”

“So he must be checked into a hotel,” George finished.

“Exactly,” I said.

“Hang on,” George said, whipping off her gloves and quickly typing on her phone. I knew exactly what she was doing. We’d searched for a suspect on an earlier case by visiting local hotels and asking for guests. “If you remember, there are eight hotels in River Heights,” she said holding up her phone, showing me the list.

“All right,” I said. “But let’s call first this time. I have an idea. . . .”

George grinned widely as she dialed and handed me the phone. “Yes! Nancy Drew undercover. My favorite. Who are you going to pretend to be?”

I just smiled and wiggled my eyebrows in response. “You’ll see.”

“Hello and thank you for calling the River Heights Inn,” a woman answered. “This is Karen. How may I help you?”

I took a deep breath. “Hi,” I said in my most mature and authoritative voice. “My husband, Michael Carter, is on a business trip in River Heights, and I forgot where he’s staying.”