Nancy nodded as she and Bess sat on the bed. “We were there when the police came. That’s why we stopped by,” she said, mentally crossing her fingers. “To see how Tamara’s taking it.”
“Not so great,” Susannah told them. “She went down to the police station to wait for Zip. I just hate to see this happen to him.”
As Susannah spoke, Nancy glanced down at the desk. It took her a moment to realize that what she wanted to check was sitting right there. The typewriter!
“And Tarn is so unhappy!” Susannah exclaimed. She shook her head sadly, staring down at the floor.
Nancy took advantage of the opportunity to nudge Bess and nod at the typewriter on the desk. Type a letter! she mouthed.
“If there’s anything we can do, just let us know,” Nancy told Susannah.
“Well, we should let you get back to work,” Bess added, getting to her feet. She walked over to the desk and ran a finger along the shiny edge of the typewriter. “Looks like you’ve been doing a lot of typing.”
“Oh, just some correspondence.” Susannah waved at the papers dismissively. “My handwriting is awful, so I type everything. Tarn’s been letting me use her typewriter.”
“Do you think I could use it for a quick note?” Bess flashed Susannah a winning smile. “I have rotten handwriting, too, and I’ve been wanting to write this letter—to my boyfriend, Jerry. It’s sort of a love letter.”
Way to go, Bess! Nancy cheered silently.
Bess picked up a blank piece of paper and slipped it into the typewriter. “I’ll make it short,” she said sweetly.
An amused grin lit Susannah’s face. “Be my guest.”
Pushing down the button to lock in the capital letters, Bess pursed her lips and began typing. Nancy forced herself not to watch while Bess pecked out one line, then two, then three. . . .
“I thought you’d never finish that letter!” Nancy whispered when they had stepped back into their suite and closed the door.
“I got carried away,” Bess said with a sheepish grin.
Nancy sat down on the couch and glanced down at the two threatening notes that still lay on the coffee table. Then, holding out her hand to Bess, she said expectantly, “Well?”
“Read it and weep!” Bess giggled as she handed Nancy the note.
The first words were “DEAREST JERRY.” Nancy’s heart pounded in anticipation as she compared the E’s to those in the threatening notes.
“They don’t match,” she announced, fighting back disappointment. “The typeface on Tamara’s machine is more angular, and the E is solid.” She frowned as she looked up at Bess. “Chances are, these hate letters did not come from Susannah or Tamara. Unless they have access to another typewriter, and that’s pretty unlikely.”
“So what does it mean?” Bess asked.
Shrugging, Nancy said, “I doubt Zip could have managed all those attacks on his own, which means my biggest suspects are probably innocent. I’ve got to do some more digging!”
“That’s all very interesting,” Bess said impatiently. “But what about my note? You didn’t even read it!”
Nancy took a closer look:
dearest jerry,
my little snickerdoodle!
will you ever know how i looooove you soooo?
whenever i sleep, i dream of you . . .
“You’re too much, Bess!” Nancy laughed, unable to read any more of it.
“Aren’t I?” Bess said proudly. “Personally, I think it’s a masterpiece.” She reached for the note, but Nancy tugged it away.
Her blue eyes sparkled as she said, “Really? And how would you feel if I passed this masterpiece along to dearest Jerry?”
“Nancy, you wouldn’t!” The color drained from Bess’s face.
“No, I guess not,” Nancy relented, handing the note back to Bess. “We’d better get going,” she added. “Ned will kill us if we’re late for the parade.”
“Wow!” Bess exclaimed a half-hour later. “The floats look so huge! Like giant toys.”
She and Nancy were sitting on a low brick wall along the homecoming parade route. The street was lined with students, people from nearby towns, and alumni of all ages.
Nancy stared up at the float that was passing in front of them, a fifteen-foot-high globe of the world that actually turned on its axis. “They are pretty amazing.”