Deadly Doubles by Carolyn Keene Read Free Book Online Page A

her—if you wait till her match is finished,” Nancy said firmly.
    “There’s no reason to spoil that,” Senator Kilpatrick agreed. “We don’t want to attract attention, anyway. You’ve met Teresa’s official chaperon, haven’t you? Point her out to me. I want to make sure she’s not around when I talk to Teresa.”
    The request would have seemed unkind, but Nancy remembered the overprotectiveness she had seen yesterday in Seńora Ramirez’s behavior. She probably wouldn’t let Teresa say more than two words, Nancy thought.
    Nancy and the senator went back to the playing area, escorted by the Secret Service agents. The match was nearing its close. “That’s the woman,” Nancy whispered, pointing with her program toward a black-dressed figure in the stands. Had Seńora Ramirez already heard about Roberta’s death, or did she always look as though she were in mourning?
    Senator Kilpatrick spoke quietly to the nearest agent. Within seconds, two business-suited government men were edging their way toward Teresa’s chaperon.
    As the match ended—another win for Teresa amid a roar of applause—Nancy saw the two close in around Seńora Ramirez and steer her toward an exit at the other end of the grandstand.
    Teresa came striding toward the path to the gymnasium, shouldering her way almost obliviously through a throng of well-wishers. She was wiping her dripping face with a towel, and the look in her eyes was remote.
    Nancy stepped in front of her. She had to speak twice before Teresa heard her.
    “Oh, Nancy. Yes. Did you enjoy the match?” Teresa asked in Spanish.
    That was not the real question she wanted to ask, and Nancy knew it. “No, I didn’t,” Nancy said directly, and she saw Teresa flinch. She tucked her arm through one of Teresa’s, as Senator Kilpatrick did the same on the other side. “This is one of our American senators, and a good friend,” Nancy said gently. “We need to talk to you.”
    Secret Service men were deftly surrounding the three women and moving them in a unit toward the little concrete office.
    As soon as the door was shut, Teresa looked at Nancy. Her eyes were dry. “ Muerto . He’s dead, isn’t he?” she asked.
    Nancy nodded. “Yes, he is. I’m so sorry. Teresa, we need your help to catch Roberto’s killers. Senator Kilpatrick will explain about it.”
    “First, I must know how he died,” Teresa said.
    She listened stoically as the senator recited the story. “I do not know why it happened,” she insisted as the senator questioned her gently. “All the time, in my country, there is killing. I did not think that could happen here.”
    “Could the other killings in your country have anything to do with your friend’s death?” Senator Kilpatrick pressed. “Could they be connected to Roberto’s murder?” The older woman repeated the question in Spanish to make sure it was understood.
    Teresa’s eyes flashed. “ No! All Roberto cares about is tennis—and me!”
    She was speaking in the present tense, Nancy noted with a pang. The realization must have struck Teresa, too, for the girl suddenly froze. Her eyes widened. Then, abruptly, she bent over sobbing.
    “Give me a few minutes with her,” Nancy whispered to Senator Kilpatrick. The senator nodded and slipped out. Nancy wrapped her arms around the slight, shaking figure and helped Teresa into a chair. She knelt beside her, holding her.
    “I am sorry,” Teresa said at last, straightening up again.
    “Don’t be. You have a right to cry,” Nancy said.
    Teresa shook her head faintly. “What you ask about Roberto . . . He has been my tennis trainer for three years, but my—what do you American girls call it?”
    “Boyfriend?” Nancy suggested.
    “My boyfriend three months only. Three wonderful months. We talk about so much. Never about politics. Never about governments.” Teresa glanced at Nancy. “Since I am young, I have love for him. Why should we talk about politics?”
    “What did you talk