Moving over to the couch, Nancy put a comforting arm around the other girl’s shoulder. “I’m so sorry,” she said.
After a few moments Jill calmed down. “It’s probably good I found out he’s a rat before I married him.” She wiped a smudge of makeup from under one eye. “Anyway, at least we don’t have to sneak around anymore.”
“Why did you have to sneak around in the first place?” Nancy asked.
“Well, technically, we were breaking the rules,” Jill replied.
Before Nancy had time to ask what Jill was talking about, she heard the wail of police sirens and fire engines. Jill sat up straight, looking startled.
“What’s the matter?” Nancy asked as the alarms grew louder.
Jill didn’t say anything right away. After a moment she relaxed and sank back into the sofa cushion. “It’s nothing,” she whispered. “Just the loud noise. They’re here for the fire.”
But Jill’s reaction didn’t make sense to Nancy. Maybe Jill was afraid of more than just the sirens, Nancy thought. “What did you mean, you and Maurice were breaking the rules?”
“Since you just started, you probably don’t know this,” Jill began, “but the bank has a rule against employees being married to each other, so Maurice and I had to keep our engagement a secret.”
“Why do they have that rule?” Nancy asked.
“If two bank employees have a close relationship,” Jill explained, “they might share confidential information. Not that Maurice and I would ever do something like that. We were just in love. At least I thought we were.”
For a moment Nancy was afraid Jill was going to break down and start crying again.
“You should have seen the ring he gave me,” she continued. “It was so huge, like something out of a dream.”
“How big was it?” Nancy asked.
“Five carats.”
Nancy whistled. “That is huge. But it must have cost a fortune. How could Maurice have afforded it? He couldn’t make that much money as head teller.”
“I was wondering the same thing,” Jill admitted. “I asked him about it, but he just told me not to worry. He said he wanted to cover me in jewels, that he could... that he would. Not that I’m ever going to see any or them now.” Tears began to fill Jill’s brown eyes, but she brushed them away.
Nancy couldn’t help wondering how Maurice had intended to make good on his boast. Had he been thinking of all the jewelry inside the vault? Where had he gotten the money for even the one diamond ring? Mr. Charles had said nothing was missing from the safe-deposit boxes, but maybe he was wrong. Maybe a ring had been taken, but the owners hadn’t discovered it yet!
Nancy licked her lips as she reviewed the possibilities. Maurice knew the vault combination. If he was working with someone who knew the alarm code—Evelyn or Larry—then a lovely ring for his fiancee would have been easy to get. It was time to get to work on the secondary suspects. Next stop, Evelyn Sobel’s office!
But Nancy didn’t want to arouse Jill’s suspicion. Trying to look natural, she checked her watch. “Oh, wow, it’s really gotten late. I should be getting back to work,” she said, standing. “I wish there was something more I could do for you. Would you like me to talk to Mr. Charles about giving you your job back?”
Jill shook her head adamantly. “There’s no way I’d go back there now. I don’t think I could bear to face Maurice after what he did.” Jill attempted a wan smile, then added, “But thanks for being so nice. You were right. You are a very good listener.”
“What will you do?” Nancy asked, genuinely concerned.
Jill let out her first real smile since Nancy had met her. “I was already looking for another job, anyway. I was pretty tired of working at the bank. I’ll find something.”
Nancy patted Jill’s shoulder. “Good luck. And thanks for helping me after the accident.”
When Nancy stepped outside Jill’s door, fire fighters in black rubber raincoats were still hosing down the twisted, charred metal that had once been a car. Three fire trucks were parked one behind the other, and in back of them, two police cars flashed their red warning signals. A crowd of curious neighbors bombarded the officers with questions.
Nancy was sure the police would love to question her about the accident, but she didn’t want to get involved with them yet. She’d have to explain too much about the situation at the bank, and she’d promised Mr. Charles to keep that information confidential. She was fairly sure no one had actually seen her part in the accident, so she hoped she could just slip away quietly.
As she threaded her way around the fire trucks and police cars, she couldn’t help feeling sorry for Jill. She really did want to help her, but there was truly nothing she could do about her broken heart. Still, proving Maurice was a crook might help Jill get over him faster.
Nancy turned off Mountain Avenue and walked the few blocks back to the bank. When she arrived, she found Bess and George still behind the tellers’ counter, helping customers, and both looking very bored. She’d been hoping to slip quietly through the lobby, but when her friends spotted her, George mouthed the word “wait.”
Hmmm, Nancy thought, something must be up—though she hoped it wasn’t as drastic as what had happened to her. When George’s customer stepped away at last, Nancy slipped over to her window.
“Come back for a second. Bess and I want to tell you something.” George’s voice was low but excited. “I’ll buzz you in.”
When Nancy entered the tellers area, Bess hurried over to Nancy and George.
“Come on,” Bess whispered, grabbing Nancy’s arm and pulling her into a tiny lounge area. “We can’t talk long, or Maurice will get on our case,” she said, “but you’ll never guess what I saw!”
“Does it have to do with Evelyn Sobel?” Nancy asked.
“You must have ESP,” Bess answered excitedly. “Wait till you hear this. Remember that right-handed glove you found?” Suddenly Bess fell silent, her blue eyes opened wide, and she wiggled her eyebrows toward her right.
Following Bess’s glance, Nancy saw an older woman walking into the lounge. Though her body was small, the woman seemed to command a great deal of strength. Her fluffy gray hair framed a narrow face, and bifocal glasses sat on the bridge of her nose. Dark eyes stared out with a severe expression. Her no-nonsense gray suit completed the picture.
The woman approached them and stopped directly in front of Nancy. “You must be the third new one,” she said sternly.
Nancy was startled by the older woman’s rude tone.
“Nancy,” George said, “I’d like you to meet Evelyn Sobel, assistant branch manager.”
Pursing her lips, Ms. Sobel extended her hand to shake Nancy’s. “How do you do.”
As Nancy took her hand, she instantly realized what Bess and George had been so excited about.
Evelyn Sobel’s hand was unusually small. It was just the right size to fit the glove she had found in Mr. Charles’s office. The glove with the letter S!
A Cloud of Smoke
Nancy looked up from Evelyn Sobel’s tiny hand to her unfriendly face.
“I can’t say I’m pleased to meet you,” the branch manager said nastily.
Nancy couldn’t believe she’d heard correctly. “Have I done something to offend you?” she asked. “I don’t think we’ve even met.”
“Actually, it’s not your fault,” Ms. Sobel said in a cool, curt voice. “You didn’t realize you were breaking protocol by working here.”
“I don’t understand,” Nancy said.
“I’m the one who hires all new employees at the bank,” Ms. Sobel explained, “yet the three of you have simply appeared out of nowhere.”
“Excuse me, Ms. Sobel,” Nancy said calmly, “but Mr. Charles hired us this morning.”
“He is the president,” Bess added.
“That doesn’t mean he can undermine my authority,” Ms. Sobel told them. “I’ve been here for over twenty-five years. I worked under his father. Mr. Charles was in elementary school when I started here. Now he thinks he can go ahead and hire people without even consulting me? Well, he ought to learn a little respect!”
Then, without even saying goodbye, Ms. Sobel turned and stormed out of the lounge.
“Amazing!” Nancy exclaimed.
“Did you notice her hands?” Bess asked in a whisper. “They look small enough to fit that glove you found.”
“Exactly what I was thinking,” Nancy agreed. “And I wonder if 'protocol’ really was the only reason she was so cold to us. By the way, there have been some developments you two should know about.”
Trying not to alarm her friends too much, Nancy explained what she’d learned from Jill Adler. Then she described the near-fatal collision at the bottom of Mountain Avenue.
“Oh, Nancy!” Bess cried, jumping from her chair and hugging her friend. “I can’t believe we’ve been standing here talking calmly when you were almost killed an hour ago!”
“I’m okay,” Nancy assured her friend. “But now I really want to figure out who’s behind all this—fast!” She pulled out her notepad and glanced through the pages quickly. “Let’s see what our complete list of suspects looks like now,” she said. “First of all, there’s Maurice, who knows the alarm code. Then there are Evelyn and Larry, who know the vault door combination. And Jill might be somewhere in the scenario too.”
“Do you think Jill had anything to do with the car crash?” Bess wanted to know.
“Obviously she couldn’t have been the driver, since she was in her house,” Nancy replied. “But if Maurice planned the crash—and if Jill was involved with him as more than just a fiancee—then she might have known something about it before it happened. Of course, I still haven’t figured out how any of the suspects could have broken into Mr. Charles’s office and safe. To work that quickly, they would have had to have the key and combination, and Mr. Charles swears no one has them but him.”
“What I want to know,” George said, cutting in, “is what are they after?”
Nancy shrugged. “I can’t even guess. But there’s some good news. After talking to Jill, we know a lot more about Maurice. And his comment about being able to cover Jill in jewels sure makes him sound suspicious.”
“You bet it does,” Bess agreed. “And what I learned about him makes him seem even worse! While you were gone, I tried to get friendly with him, ask him some personal questions—”
“Which is Bess’s specialty,” George joked.
“I have a gift for communicating with people,” Bess said huffily. “Anyway, Maurice mentioned that he’d just gotten engaged to another girl. I tried to get her name, but he wanted real hard to avoid telling me.”
“I wonder what his motives were for getting involved in another relationship so quickly,” Nancy said. “Maybe he was never really in love with Jill. Maybe he was just using her to get information for the break-in.”
“Or maybe this has nothing to do with the bank at all,” George volunteered. “It’s possible that Maurice just doesn’t know which girl he wants.”
“Then how do you explain where he got the ring?” Bess asked.
“I can’t,” George replied with a shrug. “I’m just saying we still haven’t proved Maurice was in the vault. We haven’t proved that any of them were.”
Nancy flipped through her notes a second time. A reminder she’d written earlier caught her eyes. “Check Larry’s book,” it said. Hmmm, she’d forgotten about that with all the morning’s catastrophes. But now a shiver of excitement snaked its way up her spine. “Hey,” she cried. “I’ve got an easy way to find out exactly who’s been in the vault! Anyone who enters or leaves that area has to sign Larry’s notebook.”
“But they wouldn’t sign in if they were robbing the vault,” Bess said.
“No,” Nancy agreed, “but they wouldn’t rob the vault without getting familiar with the layout first. And they’d probably do that during working hours. I think it’s time I paid Larry Jaye a visit.” With that, Nancy slapped her notepad shut, stuffed it into her purse, and pushed herself out of her chair.
“Be careful, Nancy,” Bess said, giving her friend an extra hug. Clearly, she was still very worried about the car crash. George flipped Nancy a thumbs-up sign, and then Nancy made her way out of the room.
The case was complicated, Nancy thought as she stepped across the lobby, then down the stairs and past the electric eye to the vault. But she would sort it out. After all, she’d never failed to solve a case.
The stairway’s final turn brought Nancy to the first steel gate. Through the bars she saw the bottom of a pair of men’s shoes. They were resting on the surface of the high mahogany desk, their soles scuffed and their heels worn.
The shoes were connected to the blue-trousered legs of Larry Jaye. Nancy could see that the guard’s head lolled back in his chair and his eyes were closed. His blue jacket hung on a hook behind him, and his shirt-sleeves were rolled up to the elbows.
Well, it’s a good thing there are security gates, she thought as she looked at the dozing guard. Otherwise, all you would have to do to get into the vault would be to tiptoe!
Nancy cleared her throat to get Larry’s attention. Immediately the shoes flew off the desk. They landed on the floor with a thud as Larry snapped up in his seat. Then he hurried over to the gate and opened it for her.
“Sign it,” he said gruffly, pushing his notebook toward Nancy. “I wasn’t sleeping, by the way. Just resting my eyes.”
Nancy smiled at Larry’s embarrassment. “I don’t need to go into the vault,” she told him. “I just wanted to bother you with some more intern-type questions.”
Larry looked relieved. “Oh, sure,” he agreed. “Ask me anything you want.” He smiled sheepishly. “I hope you don’t think I was goofing off. It just gets so hot and lonely down here in the basement. There hasn’t been much traffic through the vault today.”
“I understand,” said Nancy. She liked Larry. And because of the guard gates, his midday napping didn’t seem to bear much on her investigation. “So, anyway, I’m trying to learn a little more about vault procedure.” She pointed to the notebook on his desk. “Could I see the log?” she asked. “I never got a good look the last time I was here.”
“Go right ahead.” Larry turned it back to the first page and held it out to her. “There’s nothing much to it, though. Just a lot of names.”
Nancy studied the first page. Each line listed the date, a visitor’s printed name, the person’s signature, the time they signed in, and the time they signed out. The first page was dated about a month earlier. Nancy guessed that previous log books must be stored somewhere else.
As Nancy scanned the notebook page by page, one name kept coming up over and over. Evelyn Sobel! And Nancy began to notice an interesting pattern. Each morning, just after nine o’clock, Ms. Sobel had signed in and then signed out again a few minutes later. Each evening, just before five, she’d signed in and out again. Checking the rest of the pages, Nancy saw that no other bank employee had visited the vault as many times or as regularly.
Ms. Sobel’s many visits to the vault would have given her plenty of time to memorize the layout and formulate a plan. Nancy pursed her lips, thinking. It was yet another strike against the unpleasant employee. Ms. Sobel knew the vault door combination. Could she be working with Maurice Grun, who knew the alarm code? Closing the notebook, Nancy pushed it back toward Larry.
“You’ve seen enough?” he asked.
Nancy nodded. “It’s all very interesting,” she said. “I never knew there was so much to banking. I thought you just opened an account and that was it.”
Larry laughed. “Never gave it much thought, really. Though now that you mention it, I guess there is a lot you can do inside a bank.”
“Tell me about your job,” Nancy encouraged him. “Is it always this quiet?”
Larry nodded. “Pretty much. Not that I mind. It’s easy work, and the money’s not bad. But sometimes I get so restless down here. I know I look like an old man to you, but I don’t feel old inside. I still feel like the wild kid I used to be.”
“Where are you from?” Nancy inquired.
“The middle of nowhere,” Larry said. “It was such a no-account hick town, I made myself forget the name.” He laughed.
Nancy studied Larry for a moment. He certainly was in good shape for a man his age. His forearms were muscular with bulging networks of veins. On his right arm, just beneath the elbow, was a faded tattoo. Leaning in a little closer, Nancy saw the tattoo was an intricate drawing of a many-petaled, pale yellow flower. Underneath it was a word Nancy couldn’t quite make out.
“Nice tattoo,” she said. “It must have taken a real artist to draw something that detailed.”
She was about to ask what the word below the flower was when she heard a clattering noise behind her. Nancy turned in time to see a green metal oval bounce down the marble staircase—a hand grenade, she realized with horror!
“Watch out!” Larry shouted.
But before Nancy could act, the grenade’s mechanism went off, and a bone-shuddering explosion ripped through the vault.
An Unpleasant Encounter
An instant after the grenade went off, Nancy was surprised to find herself still alive. But she was! Her ears stung from the sound of the explosion, and her nose burned with an unusual, bitter smell. Nancy’s eyes began to water. Within seconds they felt as if they were on fire, and she jammed them shut to keep out the smoke. Tear gas! she realized. Then the grenade hadn’t been meant to kill them after all! Struggling to stay calm, she backed away from the smell and felt for the wall. She knew she had to get out of there, with Larry too, and the staircase was the only way to go.
Flailing out, her hand grazed the steel gate. Nancy knew it was just inches from the steps. Larry hadn’t shut it behind her, she remembered. She ran her fingers along the metal bar until she reached the edge. Pushing one foot ahead of her as a guide, she felt for the bottom step.
She heard Larry gasp behind her. “I can’t see! Nancy, where are you?”
“I think I’m near the stairs!’’ she called. “Try to follow my voice.” Moving ahead a few inches, she extended her foot again. This time it brushed against the first marble step.
“I found the staircase!” Nancy shouted.
She stumbled on the bottom step, then regained her footing. “Larry, it’s this way,” she called. As she climbed higher, a cool breeze blew down from the lobby. With each step, she could feel the stinging in her eyes lessen a little, and at last she opened them halfway.
“Nancy?” Larry’s gruff voice sounded shaky. “I’ve reached the first step!”
“Follow me!” Nancy called back. She grasped the curved railing, and they groped their way upward toward the clean air.
A small crowd had gathered at the top of the stairs. Blinking the tears away to clear her eyes, Nancy saw Bess and George trying to push their way forward. In front of them Maurice and Ms. Kussack stood with their arms spread wide to keep everyone away from the steps.
“Please step back!” Ms. Kussack pleaded with the crowd. “Mr. Charles will be here any minute.”
“Nancy!” Bess cried from just behind the secretary. “What’s that horrible smell?”
Even in her confused state, Nancy realized her friend was making a mistake. No one was supposed to be aware that they had known each other before this morning. Now Bess and George were giving themselves away.
“Are you all right?” George cried, squeezing next to Bess.
An anxious voice called from the crowd, “Is there a fire?”
“Maybe a bomb!” someone else shouted.
“No bomb!” Larry quickly shouted to the crowd, wiping his eyes with a handkerchief. “Just a little problem with the ventilation system. We’ll have it working again in no time.”
Nancy pressed her lips together, suppressing a smile. She appreciated Larry’s quick thinking. His answer had been perfect.
“Everything’s all right,” Maurice assured the customers and employees. Nancy noted that while he tried to make it look as though he were in control, it was really Larry who had defused the situation.
Slowly the crowd broke up. Ms. Kussack hurried over to Nancy’s side and took her hand comfortingly.
“You poor thing!” she clucked sympathetically. “What an awful ordeal! Come outside and get some fresh air!” Bess, George, and Larry traipsed across the lobby after them.
“I’m okay,” Nancy assured Ms. Kussack.
“What happened down there?” Bess demanded. “You look terrible!”
A second voice echoed Bess’s. “What’s going on here?” It was Alan Charles, and his expression bespoke sheer rage. Not rage at them, Nancy decided, but at the situation in the bank, which was quickly getting out of hand.
“Tear gas, Mr. Charles,” Larry answered. “But don’t worry. Nobody’s badly hurt.”
“What about the vault?” Mr. Charles demanded.
Nancy watched as a look of alarm spread slowly across Larry’s face. “The vault! The gate’s open!”
“Well, let’s go down and close it,” Mr. Charles said. “And while we’re at it, we’ll check for damages.”
“Uh, Mr. Charles,” Larry said softly, “we better wait until the gas clears. I wouldn’t want anyone else breathing it in.”
“Larry’s right,” Nancy agreed. “It’s not safe now.”
“I’ll stand guard at the head of the stairs until we can go down,” Larry assured Mr. Charles. Without waiting for a response, he hurried back across the lobby. After a few minutes he motioned to Mr. Charles and Nancy, and they joined him. “It should be okay by now,” he said. “I’ll go down first. Don’t anybody come after me until I give the signal.”
Nancy and the others waited at the top of the stairs, watching closely as he made his way down to the basement. He waved his guard’s hat in front of his face to clear the air. Then he rounded the curve in the stairs and disappeared.
A moment later he came back into view. “It’s okay,” he called up to them. “It doesn’t smell too good, but there’s no danger.”
Mr. Charles was down the stairs in an instant, with Nancy after him. As they rounded the last curve of the stairs, a faint hint of tear gas still hung in the air and remnants of the metal grenade lay scattered all over the floor. Other than that, the vault area looked exactly as it had earlier.
Larry and Mr. Charles unlocked the second gate and stepped into the steel vault while Nancy stooped to study the metal shards that had once been the grenade. She searched for identifying marks, but there were none. Disappointed, she rose to her feet. Someone at the bank had to know she was investigating. And whoever it was wanted desperately to get her off the case—either by killing her, as the car incident showed, or by scaring her with the grenade. But there was no way of knowing who was responsible—at least not yet.
Larry emerged from the vault. “Clean as a whistle inside,” he informed her. “All we really need is a broom and some fans to clear the air.”
Mr. Charles popped his head out. “Larry’s right,” he confirmed. “I’ll have the janitor do a good clean-up tonight.” Mr. Charles checked his watch. “It’s already after five o’clock. Time to lock up.” He glanced around. “Where’s Maurice?” he asked irritably. “He should have been down here by now to enter the alarm code.”
Larry shrugged. “He’s always a few minutes late.”
Mr. Charles sighed in exasperation. “Grun has been nothing but trouble all day,” he said. “I’ll go see if I can find him. And while I’m at it, I’ll get the janitor.” He sprinted up the stairs, and Larry closed the outer gate behind him.
The guard smiled at Nancy. “Back in two shakes,” he said. He paused behind his desk and picked up a maroon nylon duffel bag. Then, stepping through the inside gate, he headed for the vault. Nancy watched him make his final inspection for the night. First, he walked through the vault and opened the door to each of the three cubicles inside. Then he entered one of them and shut the door.
A few minutes later he emerged wearing tan slacks, a clean white shirt, and black suspenders. “That’s my dressing room,” he informed Nancy, smiling. Placing his duffel bag on the floor, he pushed the heavy door. It swung easily and noiselessly shut.
In another instant Maurice came rushing down the stairs. He wheezed, slightly out of breath. Nancy noticed tiny droplets of perspiration on his balding forehead. Mr. Charles chased after him, a few steps behind.
“I’m sorry I’m late,” he was saying to his boss, “but I was on the phone with a customer.” He paused while Larry opened the outer gate. As he entered the vestibule and caught sight of the exploded grenade, his eyes opened wide. “Wow, what a mess!” he exclaimed. “I didn’t expect it to be so bad!”
Nancy studied Maurice’s face. What had he meant by that last comment? That he hadn’t expected such a mess when he planned the attack? Or that he’d heard the explosion and figured it couldn’t be all that bad?
“Never mind that now,” Mr. Charles said, frowning. “It’s your job to enter the code and you’re late. There’s no excuse for that.”
Maurice nibbled at his lips nervously, but he didn’t say another word. Instead, he hurried over to where Larry was standing just inside the open inner gate. Mr. Charles gave a nod, and Larry began to turn the metal wheel on the outside of the door, first one direction, then the other, then the first way again. Meanwhile, Maurice pressed a series of numbers into the electronic alarm panel. Nancy watched his movements carefully, until a noise at the top of the stairs distracted her. For an instant she feared a second grenade. Then a slender old man swung around the curve of the stairs, a bucket, mop, and broom grasped in his hands.
“Whew!” the janitor exclaimed. “Mr. Charles, I can mop up the floor, but I don’t think I can do anything about the smell.”
Nancy turned her attention back to the vault. Larry and Maurice had finished securing it for the night, and now Larry grasped the inside gate, to push it shut. Mr. Charles stopped him with a hand on his sleeve. “You’d better leave that open. Don will have to clean in there too. I’ll stay down here and lock the gates once this mess has been taken care of.” Mr. Charles beckoned the janitor over, and the man began his work.
“Well, then, I’ll say goodbye for the evening,” Larry said, waving his hand.
“Me too,” Nancy said. “See you tomorrow.”
Secretly she couldn’t help wondering why Mr. Charles insisted on leaving the gate open. Was there something about the bank president she was missing? Like a criminal tendency?
“Goodbye, Nancy, Larry,” Mr. Charles called as they headed up the stairs.
Back up in the lobby, Bess and George were waiting with similar worried frowns, but their expressions lifted as they saw Nancy reappear. “Glad you’re back,” George said. “You know, we’re really nervous after everything that’s happened.”
“I’m so happy this day is over.” Bess sighed. “Let’s get out of here.” She swung her bag over her shoulder and started eagerly for the door.
“Hold on a sec,” Nancy said, stopping them. “Can you guys wait a couple more minutes? There’s just one last thing I need to check out before we go.”
“But everyone’s gone home,” Bess moaned. She bit her finger nervously.
It was true. The lobby was empty of customers. Only a few bank employees remained, and all of them were wrapping up their last business and heading for the door.
“It’s Ms. Sobel,” Nancy explained. “She’s been visiting the vault practically every morning and evening. I want to know what she’s up to. If she’s still here, I’m going to go see her. Maybe I can pick up a clue.”
“Let’s wait outside,” Bess suggested as the guard on duty motioned that he wanted to lock the big front doors.
“I’ll be only five minutes,” Nancy promised, then sprinted for the stairs and took them two at a time.
Halfway down the long, dim hallway, she spotted a brass nameplate marked Assistant Branch Manager. The office door stood slightly ajar. Pausing just before she reached the portal, Nancy peered in through the tiny crack. If she could catch Ms. Sobel off guard, she might be able to learn something.
The older woman sat behind her desk, her steady gaze trained on the screen of her personal computer. She seemed totally absorbed in her work, smiling slightly to herself and pausing only occasionally to take a sip from a can of soda. Bracing herself for yet another rude conversation, Nancy knocked loudly on the door.
“Come in,” Ms. Sobel called.
Nancy opened the door wide. She noticed that a scowl slid onto Ms. Sobel’s face the moment the assistant branch manager saw her.
Nancy walked quickly over to the desk, hoping to catch a glimpse of what was on the computer screen that had made Ms. Sobel smile so. But Ms. Sobel was too fast for her. By the time Nancy got close enough to see, she’d tapped a key and the screen had gone blank.
“I’m sorry to interrupt you—” Nancy began.
“Then don’t,” the assistant manager snapped. “Can’t you see I’m busy?”
Nancy forced herself not to react. She was determined not to let Ms. Sobel’s rudeness get to her. “I know you’re busy,” she said calmly, “but there’s something I wanted to say. It seems like we got off on the wrong foot earlier. I thought maybe we could try to start out all over again and this time do it right.”