002 Deadly Intent by Carolyn Keene Read Free Book Online Page B

201. Yeah, there it is, 205.”
    Nancy rang the buzzer for Oraye Sound, Inc., and she and George entered the building and headed for the fifth floor. The elevator opened on a large area divided into a number of work spaces by movable partitions. Several halls branched off in different directions from the central space. People rushed back and forth busily, and the hum of voices filled the room. In one corner was a large desk that was not hidden behind any of the dividers; a young man sat behind it, typing.
    Nancy and George approached him, and Nancy cleared her throat. He looked up from his typewriter. “Hi, are you with the NYU group?” he asked. “You’re late,” he continued, without waiting for an answer. “The tour’s started already. They’re down that way, in one of the editing rooms.”
    “NYU?” Nancy asked.
    “Yes. New York University. Aren’t you film students?”
    Nancy shook her head. “Actually, we’re here looking for our friends, Alan Wales and Bess Marvin.”
    “Who?”
    “They should have come in early this afternoon. He’s medium height with frizzy brown hair. She has blond hair a little past her shoulders, and she’s on the short side,” George supplied.
    The man thought for a moment. “Oh, you mean the two Harold Marshall sent over.”
    Nancy’s brow furrowed at Mr. Marshall’s name. “Yes. That’s right.”
    “Oh, you just missed them. They were talking about going out to celebrate something.”
    Nancy felt thoroughly frustrated as she and George started back across the large room. “George,” she said, in what was for her a down voice. “What’s going on with this case? I feel as if I’m following shadows, not leads.” Now shewouldn’t be able to get hold of Alan until their rendezvous at the club that evening. She’d lose several hours of sleuthing time—hours that could be critical to Barton Novak.
    Before George could reply, Nancy saw something that made her pulse speed up. Moving as quickly as she could, she pulled George into an unoccupied work space. “It’s Vivian!” she whispered, peeking out from around the partition.
    “Who?”
    “Harold Marshall’s secretary.” Nancy watched as Vivian emerged from the stairwell carrying a bulky package under her arm. The woman glanced around furtively and slipped down one of the hallways. The young man at the corner desk, his back to the work spaces and network of halls, continued to type, and Vivian passed by unnoticed.
    “Looks to me like she’s sneaking around,” George said.
    “Come on,” Nancy urged. “Maybe the trip down here won’t be a waste after all.” She grabbed George’s elbow, and silently, keeping a safe distance behind her, the girls followed Vivian down the hall.
    Vivian seemed to know exactly where she was going. After proceeding along a maze of corridors past numerous doors, she stopped abruptly in front of one of them. Second-guessing the next move, Nancy pulled George back around the lastcorner in the corridor—and not a second too soon. Nancy edged around the corner just in time to see Vivian whipping her head around, clearly checking to make sure she was alone. Then she entered the room she had stopped in front of.
    “Now what?” George hissed as they both breathed a sigh of relief.
    “Well, we can’t follow her in there,” Nancy thought out loud, “so we’ll have to wait until she leaves. Then we can see what’s in that room. But let’s get out of here. She’s going to come back this way, and besides, someone might see us.”
    “Maybe there’s a ladies’ room around here,” George suggested. “We could hide in there until she leaves.”
    The girls found one a few doors down and entered cautiously, making sure it was unoccupied. Then Nancy posted herself by the door, leaving it open a finger’s width so she could peer out.
    Vivian didn’t take long. Only a few minutes later, Nancy heard the clicking of her high-heeled black pumps on the tiled hallway floor and noticed