Carolyn Keene - Stay Tuned For Danger

But before he had a chance to pick up the intercom, he was interrupted by the boom of a powerful explosion. The sound of shattering glass tore through the air, followed by a bloodcurdling scream.

“Nancy!” gasped Bess in terror. “That was Rick!”

Chapter Twelve

Without waiting for permission, Nancy and Bess followed the security guard backstage. Losing themselves in a mob of people, the girls made their way toward Rick’s dressing room.

The lighting designer had been the first to reach the room itself. “Call an ambulance!” he bellowed frantically.

Nancy and Bess arrived a minute later and watched in shock as Kay Wills, the makeup artist, staggered down the hall toward them. Her skin was ashen, and she was trembling all over. Choking back tears, she turned around and sobbed, “It’s bad—really bad.”

Nancy stood on tiptoe and craned her neck to see inside Rick’s dressing room. The first thing that caught her eye was the wide mirror over the makeup table. It had been shattered into a thousand pieces!

An emergency medical team had arrived, and they were on their way up the hall now, pushing aside the crowd of onlookers. “Make room!” Nancy called, flattening herself against the wall.

“Rick! Oh, where is he?” Bess cried frantically. She bit the back of her hand as she strained to get a good look. Just then, Rick appeared in the doorway. He had a stunned look on his face. His blond hair had been blown every which way, and the white towel around his shoulders was stained bright red. Looking down, Nancy gasped—Rick’s hands were bleeding!

As soon as the paramedics saw him, they broke into a run. Gathering around him, they picked him up and laid him on a stretcher. They began pulling slivers of glass out of his hands as Rick winced in pain.

“Back off, everybody!” one of the paramedics shouted as the crowd began to press in on them again. In what seemed like just a few seconds, they had finished their immediate task and lifted the stretcher. They carried the wounded star down the hall, out of the building, and into a waiting ambulance.

Once Rick was gone, the bystanders milled around, not knowing what to do. The police arrived and began inspecting the scene, interviewing people, and collecting evidence.

Nancy walked over to Kay, who was now sitting on the floor in a corner of the hall. She still looked pale as a ghost.

“What happened, Kay?” Nancy asked gently, crouching down beside her.

“He was w-wiping off h-his cold cream—” Kay stammered, staring off into space. “And the mirror just exploded! Thank God he had that towel over his face. He’d be blind—worse, maybe. And I was just on my way in there—it could have been me, too!”

A few minutes later, while police combed the area for clues, Pappas assembled the cast and crew.

“Listen up! I have a report from the hospital about Rick.” The excited buzzing died down as the producer’s voice boomed out into the vast studio.

“He’s going to be okay. They said it looked a lot worse than it really was, and that they’re going to release him tonight. His hands will be bandaged for a while, of course, but we can work around that. I’ve already contacted our writers to come up with some material that’ll explain his bandaged hands. If we can’t work this into the story line somehow, Luther will just stick to closeups. In any case, we’re not going to let this shut us down. As far as I’m concerned, you’re all still under contract, and that includes Rick. I want everybody back here tomorrow at seven sharp!”

Just then the police officer who had been examining Rick’s dressing room let out a long low whistle. “Hey, chief! Look what we found!”

The policeman held up a small metal object. “It’s a twenty-four-hour timer. Whoever set this up must have done it yesterday.”

Pappas, standing a few feet away, nearly choked. “That’s impossible! This set is closed down tight on Sunday. I even hired extra security. My own mother couldn’t have gotten in here!”

“Which means,” said the chief, “that it was probably an inside job.”

Now Nancy finally had a definite lead. She could rule out Dwayne Casper. He couldn’t have gotten onto the set to plant the bomb.

But that left her with only two other suspects—Pappas and Lillian. Their faces floated in front of her tightly shut eyes as she leaned against the wall, trying to concentrate amid the confusion.

Nancy shook her head and opened her eyes. She was back at square one with a dangerous killer still on the loose right under her nose! I’ve got to get put of here, she suddenly realized.

Quickly, Nancy sprang up and elbowed her way through a group of technicians hovering by the studio door. “Come on,” she shouted to Bess. “We’ve got to go!”

Pulling her friend by the arm, Nancy made straight for the front exit. But she stopped short when she saw Lillian standing directly in front of her, a smug smile on her face. “I’m way ahead of you, Miss Teen Detective,” she said, smirking. “Way ahead.”

“What’s wrong with her?” Bess wanted to know as they hailed a taxi on the corner. “She gives me the creeps.”

Nancy didn’t answer. She told the cab driver the name of the hospital as they piled in. “And hurry,” she added.

Stepping off the elevator on the fifth floor, Nancy and Bess had no trouble finding Rick’s room. It was the one with the two police officers in front of it.

Oh, well, thought Nancy, at least he’s safe in there. Still, she couldn’t help feeling as though she had failed miserably. The police were in on the case now, so there wasn’t much point in continuing her investigation. And besides, she hadn’t managed to come up with very much, had she?

“Sorry, miss. You can’t go in this room,” one of the officers told Bess when she tried to enter.

“I must see Rick,” Bess said frantically.

“A Miss Jensen’s in there with Mr. Arlen now.”

Bess froze. “Oh. I see—” she finally managed to say. “Has she been there very long?”

“Ever since we got here, miss. About half an hour.” He cracked open the door to look inside. “Seems like she might be awhile longer, too.”

Bess stepped back, staring anxiously at the half-open door. Through it, she could hear Rick’s voice. And it was not the voice of a confident TV star.

“Mattie! Oh, Mattie, I’m so scared. Someone really is trying to kill me!”

“Don’t worry, my darling,” she replied in a soft voice. “The police are here. They’ll protect you.”

“You know, Mattie, you were right all along. You were the only one who saw the truth. Mattie, if I come out of this mess alive, I swear I’m going to make everything up to you. I need you, Mattie, I need you so badly—no one else ever meant a thing to me. You’re the only one I’ve ever loved!”

“I’ve heard enough!” Bess turned and ran down the hall, covering her mouth with her hands.

“Bess! Bess, wait!” Nancy called after her.

“Leave me alone!” She was fighting back her tears but losing the battle. “I can’t believe it,” she sobbed. “I just can’t believe it!”

Nancy started to go after Bess but thought better of it. Right then Bess needed to work this out on her own. But Nancy wondered about the force of her friend’s reaction. What was it about this guy that caused women to fall instantly in love with him?

Mattie and Rick had stopped talking, and the police officer silently closed the door again. No sense waiting around, Nancy decided.

Out on the sidewalk, Nancy found Bess. Her eyes were brimming over with tears, and her mascara was smeared all over her face. She looked utterly forlorn.

“Come on, Bess. Let’s go home,” Nancy suggested, gently taking her friend’s hand. Bess nodded listlessly, allowing herself to be led.