“So why the loans for the hundred thousand?” Nancy muttered to herself. She bundled the folders together and put them aside to show her father.
Ned had begun looking at the photographs on the wall. “He sure had some high-powered friends,” Ned commented. There were pictures of the judge with presidents, senators, a governor, and nationally known mayors of large cities.
Nancy had joined Ned to look at the photographs. “That’s my aunt Martha. It must have been taken at Pinebrook.”
Martha Renk, wearing a robe and looking thinner than Nancy remembered, sat at a table with her husband and two nurses. Each had cards in their hands and smiles on their faces. But the face that caught Nancy’s attention was in the background. She gasped.
“What is it?”
“Ned! That looks like the man who tried to kidnap me!”
“Which one?”
There were six people standing behind the four at the card table. Nancy pointed to the man on the end. She had only seen his features for a few seconds, but thought she remembered his thin face, light eyes, and narrow lips.
Someone knocked on the door. Ned opened it, and Bess peered in. “Oh, there you are. Ned, we need some help with a fifty-pound bag of ice.”
“Sure. I’ll be back as soon as I can,” he told Nancy.
Nancy turned back to the photograph. She had to be sure it was the same man.
Taking it to the desk, she removed it from its frame. Without the glare of the glass, the face was clearer. It definitely was he. The judge had written the names of the people in the photo on the back. Philip Reston. That’s what the dispatcher had called him! Res, not Wes! She had seen the name before, too. Where?
The phone rang, and Nancy snatched the receiver to her ear. “Renk residence.”
“It’s Ann, Nancy. They were there at the same time, but Mrs. Harvey wouldn’t tell me a thing. In fact, she sounded terrified. She hung up on me. I asked a doctor friend to find out for me.”
“He called Pinebrook?”
“Yes. Mrs. Harvey was there five weeks before Mrs. Renk died, and she went home three weeks afterward.”
“And I just found a photo,” Nancy said, “of my uncle Jon and a nasty character named Philip Reston, the man who snatched me out of the Grand.” She slapped her forehead. “Now I remember where I’ve seen the name! He’s one of the owners of Gold Star!”
Ann said, “Uh-oh. This is getting better and better, and worse and worse. Nancy, you’d better stay away from that place.”
“I can’t! Now that we’ve established a link between Reston and my uncle? No way! We’re coming down the pike, Ann, I’m sure of it.”
Ann snorted. “If you aren’t careful, the pike will be coming down on you.”
When Nancy arrived at Gold Star late that afternoon, Brownley handed her a hack’s license that looked perfectly legitimate. “Don’t advertise how you got this,” he said, warning her. “That wouldn’t be smart.”
“Okay by me,” Nancy said, popping gum at top speed.
“Take one-six-one,” he said. “Don’t hit any bumps or you’ll bash your head in. It needs shocks. And if you get it dirty, run it through the car wash next door on your way back in. See you at midnight.”
“Is the car wash open at night? That seems odd.”
“Yeah, well, they just keep a skeleton crew on. Must make money or they wouldn’t do it.”
“Do you work twenty-four hours a day?” Nancy then asked, needing to know when she could search his office. “When do you eat?”
“My, my, aren’t we full of questions. What’s it to you when I work?”
“I thought if I was close by, I could bring you a pizza or something. I didn’t mean to bother you, just wanted to help.”
He grinned. “You’re an okay kid. Nobody ever offered before. I have dinner around ten, but don’t make a special trip if you’ve got a fare.”
As Nancy walked through the garage to her assigned car, she saw Jim Dayton getting out of his cab.
“Hi,” he called to her. “Working the evening shift, huh? Tough break.”