Carolyn Keene - Stay Tuned For Danger

“Look!” she cried, pointing to the teleprompter.

Her monologue had been changed. It read:

“I want to dance with you, to sing with you, to murder you. Yes, your time is up, Rick Arlen. I’m going to kill you. I’m going to watch you die a horrible death, and I’m going to laugh.”

“What in the name of— What is this?” Pappas yelled. “Get me the teleprompter operator! I want to talk to her right now!”

“I’m here, Mr. Pappas.” A short red-haired girl spoke up.

“Would you care to explain this?” he asked, arching his eyebrows.

“Well, sir, I, uh—I really can’t explain it,” the girl stammered. “I got here early to type in the scene, and I was at the keyboard all morning. The only time I left was to take a phone call. And I know I wasn’t gone for more than a minute because when I picked up the phone, there was no one there. I—I didn’t think—”

“Exactly, you didn’t think.” Pappas shot the operator a harsh look. “You’re fired. And whoever’s job it was to keep strangers off this set, you’re fired, too.” Then, to the frightened cast and crew he said, “I’ll fire every last one of you if I have to. This nonsense has got to stop!”

Nancy watched the producer from the sidelines. He seemed genuinely concerned, but what if it was all an act? What if beneath all his theatrics, there was something completely different going on, something much more calculated—and sinister?

She noticed Lillian Weiss, too. Lillian was off in a corner, trying to be inconspicuous, but nothing could hide the pleased look on her face. She was loving every minute of all this.

“Okay, everybody,” Luther’s voice boomed from the director’s booth. “Lunch break. And when we come back, let’s try to get this show back on schedule, shall we?”

“Calm down, Mattie! You’re not going to let some practical joker ruin your day, are you?” Rick opened the front door of the studio for them, and Mattie, Bess, and Nancy filed past him onto the sidewalk.

“Come on,” he added with a grin. “Let me treat you all to lunch—while I’m still alive, that is.”

“Stop it! Stop pretending everything’s fine!” Mattie turned on him, her green eyes flashing. “You’ve got to be terrified! Why don’t you just come out and admit it?”

“Me? Terrified? Don’t be ridiculous.—they can’t kill me. The world needs me! Besides, it’d spoil the ratings if I died.”

“Oh, I could just punch you,” Mattie growled. “And I’ll pay for my own lunch, thank you.”

“Whatever you say.” Rick shrugged. “I’ll just have to treat Bess—and Nancy, of course. Right, ladies?”

Bess and Nancy said nothing, embarrassed by the way Rick was taunting Mattie. Nancy started to walk off by herself.

“Hey, look who’s here!” said Rick, his attention caught by a man at the studio door. “It’s the president of the losers’ league himself. Hi, Dwayne.”

Dwayne Casper, Mattie’s agent, rushed up to them, pointedly ignoring Rick’s remark. Nancy stopped and observed the scene at a short distance from the others. “Mattie!” he cried, throwing his arms around her. “I was bringing some of your new head shots to the front office and I heard what happened. It’s absolutely outrageous! Are you all right, darling?”

“Oh, I suppose so,” Mattie replied softly, shaking free of his embrace. “It was awfully upsetting, but—”

“But nothing,” Dwayne said, interrupting. “You’re in danger, and I won’t have it!”

“Keep your shirt on, Casper,” Rick said, with a scornful laugh. “This nut is supposedly after me, not Mattie. Why don’t you leave us alone and go hover over some of your other clients. If you have any, that is.”

“Rick!” Mattie cried sharply.

“It’s all right, Mattie, he doesn’t bother me. As long as you’re all right—”

“I’m fine, Dwayne. Please don’t worry about me.” Mattie smiled at him warmly. “Honest.”

“Yeah, don’t worry, old buddy. I’ll take care of Mattie,” Rick said, trying to assure him.

“Oh, I’m sure you will.” Dwayne sneered. Then he turned to Mattie and took her by the hand, looking deeply into her eyes. “I want you to promise to call me if there’s any more trouble on the set.”

Mattie nodded, then Dwayne walked off, throwing a nasty look over his shoulder at Rick.

“For pete’s sake, Mattie,” Rick muttered before Dwayne was out of earshot, “when are you going to dump that jerk and get yourself a real agent!”

“Oh, Dwayne’s not so bad,” Mattie answered, watching the man disappear. “Remember, he took me on as a client when nobody else would even give me an interview.”

“But you’ve come a long way since then. You’re a star now. You should have a major agency representing you,” he said as they started walking to catch up with Nancy.

“I don’t know. Somehow I’d feel like a rat if I left Dwayne.”

“All I know is, a major agency could get you a lot more work and more money. And a girl with your talent deserves the best.” Seeing he was getting nowhere, Rick threw up his hands. “All right, I won’t say another word. You know how I feel, though.” He stopped in front of an expensive-looking restaurant. “Here we are. Serena, Nurse Sanford, Nurse Johnson, would you care to have lunch with me?” he said, opening the restaurant door for them.

“It’s Saturday morning and time for another edition of ‘Soap Opera Weekly,’ where we bring you the latest on your favorite shows and introduce you to the stars,” the television announcer was saying as Bess shook Nancy’s shoulder.

“Wake up, Nancy Drew!” Bess said, mimicking the announcer. “Come on. The alarm went off ten minutes ago! Your aunt’s still sleeping so I wheeled the TV in here. Rick’s going to be on ‘Soap Opera Weekly’ this morning. We can watch while we get dressed.”

“Mumpfh—” Nancy mumbled, burying her head under the pillow. Was it really morning already?

She and Bess and her aunt Eloise had had such a great time the night before. They’d gone to see Soft Shoe , the Broadway musical smash of the season. The show was wonderful, but they’d stopped for a bite to eat afterward. By the time they got home, it was almost one in the morning.

Flipping over and squinting at the TV, Nancy saw shots of different soap opera stars as the upbeat theme song played in the background.

“Our special ‘Soap Opera Weekly’ guest today is the star of ‘Danner’s Dream’!” the announcer said. “Will he and Serena Livingstone finally tie the knot this time? Mr. Sex Appeal himself, Rick Arlen, will be here with us in just a few minutes! But first—”

The commercial came on, and Nancy realized there was no way she was going to get back to sleep. Not with Bess rummaging around the room, tossing one outfit after another on the bed and saying things like, “What do you think, Nancy? The pink or the yellow?”

Pulling herself up onto her elbows, Nancy yawned and looked out the window. It was a glorious day outside—warm and sunny. A perfect day for seeing the sights, she thought happily.

“He’s on! He’s on!” Bess shouted a few minutes later. Nancy turned from the closet and saw Rick. He was seated casually across from the interviewer, waving and nodding as the audience clapped and cheered.

Cleverly refusing to give away any of the show’s carefully guarded secrets, Rick did admit that he was considering leaving the show at the end of the season to star in a movie. The audience groaned, then applauded.

“Tell us about the real Rick Arlen,” the interviewer prompted. “Could we be hearing wedding bells soon?”

Laughing, Rick made an old joke about the gossip columns having him engaged to three different girls. “But then, you never can tell,” he added slyly, blowing a kiss to a “special lady out there.”