Shadow of a Doubt by Carolyn Keene Page A

a young secretary told her, pointing, to a chair. “Have a seat.” Then the girl walked away on stiletto heels. I’ve seen enough secretaries and receptionists on this case to last me a lifetime, Nancy thought.
    Nancy walked around the small outer office. From the lone voice inside Allard’s office,Nancy assumed he was on the phone. She moved closer to his door, noticing it was slightly ajar.
    â€œDon’t worry,” she heard him saying. “Everything’s under control. Yes. I said don’t worry.” Then Nancy saw him catch her eye. “I’ll talk to you later,” he said, quickly finishing his conversation.
    Nancy covered herself by knocking softly on the door. “Can I come in?” she asked.
    â€œOf course,” Allard said with a smile. “Just taking care of some business. What can I do for you today? Still thinking about the Gleason case?” he asked.
    â€œActually, yes,” Nancy answered. “I’ve been thinking about the missing money. Last night my father told me that the embezzled money had been stashed in the bank.”
    â€œI seem to remember that was the case,” Allard said, rubbing his chin. “But from what I recall, the money disappeared from here, and none of it was ever recovered.”
    â€œI was hoping you could help me find it, though.” It was a long shot, Nancy knew. Banks had all sorts of laws against anyone looking at their records.
    Allard seemed to read her mind. “You realize I can’t really allow you to see those records,” he said.
    â€œI know it would be asking a lot,” Nancysaid. “But this is the last time I’ll ask for your help.” She watched Allard’s face for some kind of reaction, but his features remained a blank.
    â€œI’ll hold you to it,” he said, smiling. “It’s a little unorthodox, but I still feel as if I owe Carson Drew a favor. Come with me.”
    As Allard took Nancy down to the bank’s record room, Nancy thought about how helpful he was being. If he was guilty, Allard had everything to lose by cooperating with her. Instead, he was even bending the law a bit to allow her to look at the records. That wasn’t the act of a guilty man, she thought.
    In the records room, Nancy saw stacks of computer printouts; several people were seated at terminals and microfiche readers working on bank statements.
    â€œAlan here can help you,” Allard said, introducing her to a tall young man with thick blond hair and preppy round glasses. “Explain to him what you’re looking for and maybe, between the two of you, you’ll find it.”
    Nancy thanked Allard and started telling Alan about Gleason’s bank account.
    â€œLet’s see,” Alan said. His fingers quickly tapped out Gleason’s name. “Eight years ago, you say. Hmmm. Here it is.” With a few keystrokes, Alan had pulled up a record of the account.
    â€œWithdrawal. Closed out the account.Whew! That’s a lot of money to take out all at once.”
    â€œCan you see if there’s a record of a deposit around the same day for the same amount?” Nancy asked. “I’m trying to find out if the money appeared in some other account.”
    â€œGood thought,” Alan said. Tap, tap. “Nope. Nothing. No large deposits into either a checking or a savings account.”
    â€œAre you sure?” Nancy felt her disappointment rising.
    â€œLook, I’m a pro. If I can’t find it, no one can. That’s what I told the other guy who was here a few days ago asking the same thing. What is it with this account, anyway? You’re not from the IRS, are you?” Alan looked at Nancy over his glasses.
    â€œMe? No.” Nancy barely even heard the question. “What’s that you said about ‘the other guy’?”
    â€œMr. Allard brought a kid down here several days ago and told me to help him out the same way.”