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Authors: Carolyn Keene

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BOOK: Power of Suggestion
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“Hey, who's that?” Bess asked, staring behind Nancy.

Turning around, Nancy saw that a beautiful, dark-haired girl had intercepted Wayne and Parker at the archway leading to the foyer.

“That's Diana DeMarco,” Ned replied, following Nancy's gaze. “She's a transfer junior. She's been here only a semester, but she's already made a big impression on everyone.”

“I'll bet,” Nancy said, appraising the girl.
There was something almost haughty about the girl's posture and expression. She wore a tight-fitting neon pink and black ski ensemble that showed off every curve of her terrific figure.

Nancy, Ned, and Bess were close enough to hear some of the exchange between Wayne and the girl.

“. . . But, Wayne, it's really important—we need to talk,” Diana was saying.

“Not now, Diana. I have work to do. Look, call me tonight, okay? Whatever it is, I'm sure it can wait until then,” Wayne replied.

“I don't think it
can
wait,” Diana said, her voice taking on a frosty edge.

Wayne gave her a dismissive shrug. “That's up to you,” he said. “Do what you like.” With that, he and Parker walked through the foyer and were gone.

“I don't think I like this Wayne Perkins guy,” Bess said, frowning down at her cocoa. “He seems really cold.”

“You're not the only one who thinks so,” Ned told her. “He has a way of setting people's teeth on edge.” His gaze moved back toward Diana, who still stood by the foyer, her hands clenched into fists. After a moment she too stormed out into the night.

Bess stared after the brunette, then turned to Ned and Nancy. “Well, I don't know about you, but I'm not going to let that guy ruin
my
weekend. I'm ready for some fun!”

• • •

“Do you think Parker will like me in this?” Bess asked an hour later, smoothing the skirt of her red cowl-necked sweater dress.

Nancy nodded. “I think he'd like you even if you were wearing a burlap bag,” she teased. She glanced down at her own outfit, a brown leather skirt, a cable-knit sweater Ned had given her for Christmas, and warm tights.

After leaving the student union, the two girls had gone to the dorm so they could change into dry clothes. Now they were waiting in the living room of the Omega Chi Epsilon fraternity house while Ned changed. There was a roaring fire in the room's stone fireplace, and several of Ned's fraternity brothers stopped by on their way in or out.

Nancy and Bess knew many of the guys from previous visits, and soon there was a small group of boys sitting with them. Two of them, Howie Little and Craig Watson, were starters with Ned on the Emerson basketball team, the Wildcats, and old friends of Nancy and Bess.

Nancy looked up as a small, skinny guy in glasses came by. “Here's one of our newest brothers, Maury Becker.” Howie introduced the newcomer to the girls.

Maury shook Nancy's hand, regarding her seriously. “You know, I did a complete workup on you and Ned for my compatibility program,” he said. “You're the most compatible couple I've ever found.”

Nancy laughed, but gave Maury a puzzled look. “You've never even seen us together. What's this program you're talking about?”

“See, I factor in all the variables that can disrupt a relationship, then I cross-reference them against the stabilizing elements and both people's personality characteristics—”

Craig Watson interrupted the flow of words, saying, “Enough, pal. You're overwhelming the poor girls.” Turning back to Nancy and Bess, he explained, “We call him Maury the Hacker, Omega Chi's resident computer genius. He doesn't need to meet you—all he needs is raw data to feed into his computer.”

“The numbers never lie,” Maury assured them.

Suddenly the front door flew open, and a massive figure burst in. The muscular boy had a blond crew cut and was wearing a half-open Emerson jacket, with no scarf, hat, or gloves.

“Whoo! It's cold out there!” he cried, shivering and rubbing his hands together.

“Maybe if you wore something warmer than your varsity jacket, you wouldn't be complaining, Webb!” Craig retorted, laughing. “Come on over and meet Nickerson's girlfriend. Nancy and Bess, this is Dave Webb, star fullback of the football team.”

“Dave wants to look like a tough guy out on campus,” Howie Little added. “But then we have to listen to him whine.”

Dave grinned sheepishly. “If I'd known we had visitors, I would've acted more macho,” he agreed.

Nancy's eyes automatically shifted to the doorway as Ned came into the room. He was wearing a pair of gray corduroy pants and a black V-neck sweater, and Nancy thought he looked incredibly handsome. He walked over, sat on the arm of her chair, and gave her a kiss on the cheek. She could feel herself turning bright red as his brothers broke into applause.

“I just want to remind you all whose girlfriend she is,” Ned said, flashing the guys a grin. Turning to Nancy and Bess, he added, “It's almost seven. We've got to meet Parker.”

As they rose, Dave Webb turned to Ned. “Did Wayne Perkins ever find him? Parker had the study session after mine. Dr. Edberg really went on the warpath when Parker didn't show up.”

“I guess it's all smoothed over,” Ned said. “Parker is at the psych lab now.”

“He should really stay on top of this stuff,” Dave said, shaking his head.

“We should all stay on Parker's case to be more serious about his studies,” Ned agreed. “See you guys later.”

After saying goodbye, he, Nancy, and Bess bundled up and went back out into the cold night.

“What a great bunch of guys!” Bess said, looking out at the snow-covered buildings and evergreen trees that dotted the campus.

“The best,” Ned agreed.

As the three of them crossed the main lawn, the seven o'clock bells chimed from the carillon tower. Groups of students passed by, talking and laughing. The campus was so beautiful that Nancy didn't want to hurry, despite the cold.

“What's on your mind, Bess?” she asked, noticing her friend's preoccupied look.

Bess frowned. “Is Parker really doing that badly in psychology?” she asked Ned. “I mean, it's so hard to believe—he seems really bright.”

“He is. That's not the problem,” Ned answered. “Sometimes the college whirl can be distracting, especially for freshmen like Parker. He was in training for gymnastics until the season ended, he pledged the frat, and he went to a few too many parties. It's easy to fall behind.”

“That sounds kind of irresponsible,” Nancy commented.

Ned shrugged. “Parker's a great guy,” he said, “but that might be his one real weakness. He's always had things pretty easy. He's good-looking, nice, athletic, and his folks are really wealthy. His dad owns a huge real-estate company outside of Emersonville. Parker just expects everything to be fun, and when it's not he has a hard time concentrating.”

“Psych class wasn't fun?” Bess guessed.

Ned shrugged again. “I guess not. But this study group he's in seems to be helping.”

“So what do they do in the group?” Nancy asked, kicking at a clump of snow with her boot.

“I'm not too sure,” he replied. “I do know that Professor Edberg has the students listen to subliminal tapes that are supposed to teach them how to study more efficiently.”

“Subliminal tapes?” Bess crinkled up her nose. “What are those?”

“I'm not real clear on that,” Ned told her. “The way I understand it, they're tapes that have a hidden message underneath the music. You listen to the music and your subconscious mind hears the message.”

Bess shot Ned a doubtful glance. “And that works?”

“Beats me,” he said, laughing. “You'll have to ask Parker about it. There's the psych building up ahead.”

He pointed to an ivy-covered stone building a dozen yards in front of them. There were only a few lights on inside, Nancy noticed as they approached. It looked peaceful and inviting.

They had just reached the steps when the air was shattered by a muffled report. Nancy, Ned, and Bess froze in their tracks.

“Was that a gunshot?” Bess asked, her voice a whisper.

Nancy's heart started pounding. “Definitely,” she said. “I think it came from inside the psych building!”

She was halfway up the steps when the front door of the psych building flew open, and Parker Wright stumbled out. He tripped as he hit the steps and fell to his hands and knees.

“Parker!” Bess exclaimed, vaulting past Nancy. Nancy and Ned were right behind her. As they helped him to his feet, Nancy realized he was wearing only his jeans and sweater and he was shivering. Peering into his eyes, she saw nothing but a dazed look.

“Parker, what happened?” Nancy asked urgently. “Did you hear that gunshot?”

Parker stared at her blankly. When she repeated the question, he blinked, then shook his head, as if he were trying to gather his wits. “I—I don't know . . . the music stopped . . . he fell down . . .” he finally stammered.

“Who fell, Parker? Was it Wayne?” Nancy asked.

“The song . . . the song is the same . . . always the same,” Parker babbled.

Nancy turned to Bess and Ned, who were supporting Parker, their arms around his shoulders. “He's not making any sense,” Nancy said. “I can't stop thinking about that gunshot. We've got to find out what's going on!”

“I'll take Parker into the lobby so he can warm up,” Bess offered. “But you guys, be careful!”

As Bess slowly led Parker back up the stairs and into the building, Ned and Nancy raced inside. “I'm pretty familiar with the building,” Ned told her. “Edberg's lab is this way.”

He led Nancy down a deserted hallway, up a flight of stairs, and around a corner. Nancy's eyes searched every inch they passed, but she didn't
see anyone else or spot anything that looked suspicious.

“In here!” Ned said, stopping at a doorway at the end of the second-floor hallway. The door was ajar, and he pushed it open with his gloved hand.

Nancy burst into the room right behind him and took in the scene.

It was a small room, not much bigger than a faculty office. The first thing Nancy noticed was a mirror that covered almost an entire wall of the room. There was a door beside it. A comfortable reclining chair sat in the middle of the room, facing the mirror.

“Ned, look!” Nancy gasped, pointing.

There, partially hidden by the recliner, a crumpled form lay in a pool of blood on the carpet. Ned's face went white as he knelt beside the form.

“Is it—” Nancy began.

“Yeah, it's Wayne,” Ned responded, panic creeping into his voice. “He's been shot!”

Chapter

Three

N
ANCY COULD
hardly breathe as she bent down beside Wayne. Pulling off one glove, she felt his neck for a pulse. There was none.

“He's dead,” she said, trying to ignore the sick feeling that welled up inside her.

“But who . . . ? How . . . ?” Ned's voice trailed off as he stared down at Wayne's body.

“That's what we'll have to find out,” Nancy said grimly. She was already sorting through the situation in her mind, and she didn't like what she was coming up with. If Parker had been alone in the room with Wayne, then he was sure to be the prime suspect in the killing.

“Hey, there's a gun!” Ned's voice broke into her thoughts. Looking to where he was pointing,
Nancy saw a revolver lying on the carpet at the foot of the recliner.

“Don't touch it!” she advised him. “In fact, don't touch anything. We don't want to disturb any evidence. Is there a phone around? We should call the police and an ambulance right away.”

Ned nodded. “There's a phone booth down the hall.”

After he left the room, Nancy turned back to examine the scene of the crime. The small, windowless room wasn't like any laboratory or classroom she'd seen before. It was softly lit by track lights along the ceiling and was painted a comforting shade of pale blue. The plush carpeting was a slightly deeper shade of blue, marred now by the dark stain where Wayne's body lay.

Against one wall was a solid oak library table with several cushioned, armless chairs. The study group probably worked around the table, Nancy guessed. Parker's leather bomber jacket hung over the back of one of the chairs. The centerpiece of the room was the luxurious recliner Nancy had noticed when she first entered. A set of stereo headphones was hooked over the back of the chair. Set against a side wall was what looked like a control panel, with an assortment of lights and switches.

Nancy walked over to the recliner and held her ear next to the headphones, but there was no sound coming from them. If something had been
playing before the shot was fired, it had been turned off.

Next, she went over to the door next to the mirrored wall. It was slightly ajar, so she pushed it open and stepped in.

BOOK: Power of Suggestion
10.37Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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