Free High Risk by Carolyn Keene Page A

life.”
    â€œCould be,” Nancy agreed. Her mind was racing as she thought of the possibilities Ned’s bit of news opened up. “Listen, if she works at Mutual Life, she’d have access to records and stuff like that. It would definitely make sense that she was Foyle’s partner in the insurance scam! I’m going over there now and talk to her. Do you know her name?”
    â€œNo, I only know her by sight. But I’ll bet Mr. Packard could help you out,” Ned said.
    An hour later Nancy was cruising along Main Street in Mapleton, heading for the Mutual Life offices. As she stopped for a light, her eye was caught by a familiar logo on a building on the north side of the street. “Karsh’s department store,” she said aloud. That was the place where Michelle Ferraro worked.
    On impulse, Nancy pulled over to the curb andgot out. Perhaps someone Michelle worked with—her supervisor, maybe—knew something about her relationship with Foyle, or about her salary. She walked up to the store window and peered in. It wasn’t open yet, as it wasn’t quite ten o’clock, but Nancy could see people inside, getting the store ready. She made a note to herself to come back later.
    She was about to turn away when she suddenly found herself staring into a pair of dark, angry eyes. It was Michelle! Nancy realized with a start. She must have spotted Nancy peering in. The leopard scarf she had been wearing when Nancy questioned her the day before was draped around her neck. She was twirling the ends with her fingers and glaring venomously at Nancy. After a second Michelle tossed her head and sauntered away.
    Nancy headed back to her car, a little shaken by the fierce expression she had seen on the girl’s face. Getting in, she drove the two blocks to the Mutual Life offices, where she found a space at the very back of the parking lot behind the annex, in the shade of some trees.
    Nancy went into the annex and headed for Joe Packard’s second-floor office. Andy Feinberg, Ned’s office mate, was just going into their office with another guy as she arrived. He gave her a friendly look and a wave, and Nancy smiled back.
    Packard was glad to see her, but when she told him why she was there, his smile faded. “Do you really think that Foyle’s murder has something todo with insurance fraud?” he asked, sounding anxious.
    â€œIt’s a possibility,” Nancy replied, sitting in a chair near his desk.
    â€œWhat about Michelle Ferraro?” asked Packard.
    â€œShe’s still on the list of suspects. I saw her this morning at Karsh’s, and she gave me a really nasty look,” Nancy told him. “But a glare isn’t proof of anything. I still have to check out the fraud idea.”
    He nodded. “Yes, I suppose you do,” he agreed. “I hate to think that any of our employees could be stealing from the company, but I guess it’s possible. Now, let’s see.” He pulled out a directory of telephone extensions and studied it.
    â€œThe girl works in accounting, eh?” he murmured. “Well, it’s not any of these women, because none of them is young and blond. And the others are men. So it must be this name right here.” He pointed to a spot on the directory. “Libby Cartwright.”
    Nancy thanked him and went up a flight to the accounting department on the third floor. A man at the photocopy machine pointed out Libby Cartwright’s cubicle, and Nancy went over.
    â€œMiss Cartwright?” she said.
    The girl in the cubicle turned around and Nancy had to work hard to keep a straight face. It was the girl from Conchita’s. But Libby certainly looked different this morning. Her blond hair, now mousse-free, was pulled back into a bun,and she had on no makeup. She wore glasses, a demure high-necked blouse, and a gray suit.
    â€œYes?” Libby replied, and Nancy recognized her high, slightly breathless