Free A Date with Deception by Carolyn Keene Page B

of fresh seafood in the window of the shop two doors down. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Dmitri cross thestreet. When his back was completely to her, she hurried to the post office and went inside.
    â€œHi,” she said to the postal worker. “I was wondering if you could tell me the rates to France.”
    â€œFirst class?” the woman asked.
    Nancy nodded. It didn’t really matter.
    â€œI shouldn’t have to look it up,” the woman said, running her finger down a chart. “The man who was in here before you just sent something to France.” She glanced up, smiling, to tell Nancy the rate.
    But Nancy was already out the door.
    Glancing around, Nancy spotted Dmitri halfway down the block. It seemed as if he were heading back to the institute. She would have given anything to see what was in that envelope. If he’d just mailed some Jetstar blueprints to France, there was no way she could prove it. Should she just go up to him and confront him?
    Don’t be ridiculous, she told herself. He’d just deny it. Plus, if she said anything at all, he’d know she suspected him. Then he’d be even harder to trap.
    Dmitri was almost at the end of the road when Nancy saw him go into a food shop. She knew that place—it sold wonderful, thick sandwiches on fresh-baked Italian bread. It was lunchtime; he was probably going to take something back for Marina and Sasha.
    Nancy’s stomach rumbled. She’d eatenbreakfast hours ago, so she might as well pick up something, too—after Dmitri left.
    Waiting outside the little shop, Nancy watched several people come and go. Her stomach was rumbling even louder now, and she wondered what was taking Dmitri so long. Finally, she edged up to the front window and looked inside.
    From where she was standing, Nancy could see the cash register. Gathered near it, chatting together, were Dmitri, Bill Fairgate, and Eileen Martin.
    Quickly Nancy pulled away and walked back down the block and around the corner. There she waited, peering around the edge of the building.
    First Eileen and Bill came out. They got into separate cars and drove off in the same direction. To Jetstream, Nancy guessed.
    At last Dmitri stepped out. He carried a bulging paper bag in one hand. Probably sandwiches, Nancy thought. But she was more interested in his other hand. In it was a folded sheet of white paper. He glanced at it, smiled, and tucked it carefully into the pocket of his lightweight windbreaker.
    He could have just taken a menu from the sandwich shop, Nancy told herself. Or he could have gotten new plans for the Jetstar—hand delivered by Bill Fairgate.

Chapter

Ten
    G IVING UP ON LUNCH , Nancy started back toward the institute, keeping a safe distance from Dmitri Kolchak.
    She wasn’t sure what was happening. Had Dmitri actually gone into the Jetstream complex the previous night? Had he gotten something from Bill Fairgate then, and more information at the sandwich shop just now? Then why hadn’t he waited and mailed both things at once? If he hadn’t gotten anything from Bill the previous night, then what had he just mailed to France?
    What about Eileen Martin? She and Bill Fairgate had obviously come to buy theirlunch. But with Eileen there, would Bill Fairgate really have dared to hand over secret information?
    Nancy didn’t have any answers. The paper Dmitri had put in his pocket might have some, though. She had to find a way to look at it.
    She also had to find a way to get some leads on Bill Fairgate, Nancy realized. For instance, she could follow up on the reports that he liked to play the stock market. But how could she get any concrete information about his financial status, especially way out here in the Hamptons? If he was playing the stock market, he was probably doing it through a broker in New York. The only thing she could think to do was break into his office, either at work or at home, to look for bank statements or