Luther shrugged and turned to Lillian, who was standing beside him. “We’ll shoot the hospital scene with Mattie,” he said.
“Whatever you say,” Lillian drawled, throwing a wink Nancy’s way. “Report to duty, Nurse Drew. And try not to miss your cue.”
Standing in the make-believe operating room as the crew adjusted the lights, Nancy’s spirits sank. Rick was out on the street somewhere, unprotected. And there she was on her last day in town, about to walk around in the background of a fictional scene instead of tracking down a very real criminal.
Someone had found a way to get around the set undetected, again and again. That was the key. In spite of guards at the doors, and people everywhere, Rick’s enemy had gotten in. If she only knew how! If she could only discover the method behind the madness, she felt sure the rest would fall into place. But how could she do anything now?
“Action!” came Lillian’s voice. Taking her medicine tray, Nancy crossed the set, put the tray down, and walked back again, heaving a deep sigh.
Action. That’s exactly what was needed. If only there was some action she could take!
“Cheer up, Nancy.” Bess peered sympathetically into the mirror at her friend’s reflection. Nancy wasn’t used to losing and it hurt. Bess pulled a comb through her blond hair and twisted it up in one deft move. She fastened it in place, and searched for something comforting to say. “I know it’s a bummer, but you win some and you lose some.” Somehow those weren’t the words she had been looking for.
“Well, I don’t really feel like going out to dinner, that’s for sure,” Nancy replied listlessly. She reached for her makeup case on the bathroom counter.
“But we’re going to a really great restaurant! Your aunt, Eloise, said it’s one of her favorites. And I can’t wait to tell her about my big scene today. The videotape editor told me he was sure I got into the shot. Can you imagine? There I am, actually handing a paper to Mattie Jensen on national TV! My mother will flip!”
Nancy lifted the collar of her mauve jacket and fastened a rhinestone pin to the lapel. “There’s just so little time left and so many unanswered questions.”
Suddenly the door buzzer rang. “Come on, Nancy. That’s the signal. Your aunt and the cab are waiting!” Bess cried. “Be right down!” she called into the intercom.
At the restaurant the girls were seated by a lovely young hostess, who looked more like a model than a restaurant employee.
“Pierre will be your waiter,” she told them.
Just then, a young man with twinkling eyes and a handlebar mustache approached the table.
“Bonsoir. Je m’appelle Pierre. Here I haf ze menu,” he said in a thick French accent. Bess couldn’t help giggling as he handed the menus around the table, giving each of them a seductive look. “I can tell zees table will be my favorite of ze night.”
“I didn’t know this place served French food,” Eloise mused out loud, watching him go.
“It doesn’t,” Bess remarked in surprise as she looked over the menu. “A French waiter at an American restaurant. That’s weird.”
“Not for New York it’s not,” Nancy’s aunt replied.
Nancy’s eyes followed the waiter to the bar, where he put in an order for some other customers. “Hey, Steve,” he yelled in a regular voice, “give me three mineral waters and a Coke.”
Nancy looked up when the waiter returned to the table to take their order. “Garçon—avez vous un stylo noir, peut-etre?”
“Huh?” he asked, confused. “Want to run that by me again, lady?”
“You’re not French?” Bess exclaimed.
“Mais non, mademoiselle,” the waiter admitted with a shy smile. “I mean, nope. Never even seen the place.”
“I’ll bet I know what’s going on,” Eloise ventured. “You’re an actor, aren’t you?”
The waiter looked at Eloise for a second and then laughed. “Okay, okay. I confess. I’m guilty. I am an actor, but please don’t be mad.”
With that, he tugged on the end of his mustache and pulled it off. “I have an audition for the part of a French waiter tomorrow, so I thought I’d get in a little practice tonight. Now, ladies, what can I get you?” He proceeded to take their orders and then left.