The Runaway Bride by Carolyn Keene

Author:Carolyn Keene
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Simon Pulse

Chapter

Nine

NANCY FELT A WAVE OF heat wash over her as she stumbled toward the bonfire. The band was playing its frantic, macabre music faster and faster. The flames were inches away.

In the split second before landing in the fire, an image flashed in her mind. It was a move she’d learned in one of her martial arts classes. Without even thinking, she threw her left hand out. Her palm met dirt, and she pushed off it as hard as she could.

Nancy landed in a crumpled heap, a tiny flame singeing the edge of her yukata sleeve. She swatted at it, extinguishing it instantly. Then she struggled back to her feet, sweat pouring down her face, her heart thundering in her chest.

Someone just tried to kill me again, she thought. She had to find her assailant before he—or she—got away.

Scanning the crowd, Nancy spotted a guy in a light blue yukata and straw hat. He was trying to squirm through the dancers, and he looked as though he were in a hurry.

That must be him, Nancy thought.

In all the confusion only a few dancers had even noticed Nancy’s fall. Now, as she tried to push past them and pursue the guy in the blue yukata, they stared at her curiously and asked her if she was all right. None of them seemed to realize that she’d been pushed.

“I’m fine,” Nancy said hastily. “Now, please, I have to get through.”

The guy was fast approaching the outer edge of the circle when Nancy saw an arm reach out from somewhere, accidentally knocking his straw hat off. He had a crew cut, she noted.

The music had reached a fever pitch. Everyone was whirling and clapping wildly. “Oh, please,” Nancy cried out in frustration as her path was blocked by two very energetic dancers.

By the time she made it out of the circle, Nancy’s assailant was long gone.

At that moment Mick came rushing up to her. “I’ve been looking all over for you,” he began, then stopped when he saw the expression on her face and the disheveled state of her clothes and hair. Without another word, he wrapped his arms around her and hugged her close.

Nancy shut her eyes and allowed herself to sink against his chest. Her knees felt wobbly, and her head was spinning.

“Let’s get away from here,” Mick suggested, taking her hand. He led her to a stone bench away from the noise of the band and the crowd. “What happened?” he asked gently.

Nancy told him, trying to keep her voice steady as she recounted the terrifying experience. “Did you get a look at the chap?” Mick asked worriedly.

“He was wearing a light blue yukata and a straw hat, and he had a crew cut,” Nancy replied.

“Do any of your suspects have crew cuts?”

“Yes—Mad Dog Hayashi. And also the delivery guy who brought us the poisonous fugu.” Nancy frowned. “Unless, of course, they’re one and the same.”

Mick’s eyes flashed angrily. “Should we go to Hayashi’s studio and confront him?”

“I’ll pay him a visit first thing tomorrow,” Nancy told him, brushing some dust off her yukata.

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