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anymore.
Not until I have to explain to Mom and Dad."
"So what do you want to talk about?"
"I'd like to sleep," Joe replied, "but if you want to talk, then let's talk
about you."
......"Me?" Holly said in surprise. "I'm. . . there's nothing to talk about."
She's hiding something, Joe realized suddenly. It was in the way her voice
trembled, the way she wrapped her arms tightly around herself. "Let's talk
about the Rajah, then,"
he said, playing a hunch.
"What about him?" Holly asked coldly, and he knew he was on the right track.
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She didn't want to talk about the Rajah.
He had to coax the information out of her. How would Frank have handled this?
He wondered. He
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smiled and bent his head so she would not see. When he raised his head again,
his expression was bland, as if he weren't really interested in their
conversation.
"What made you run to the Rajah?" he asked.
Her relief at his question was noticeable, but there was still a darkness in
her eyes and a chill in her voice that bothered Joe. "My father," she said
slowly. "1 had to get away from my father."
"Why?" Joe asked. "He seems like a nice enough guy to me. Did he hit you?"
"No. He never laid a hand on me. He never even touched me. That was the
problem."
"I don't understand."
Holly's eyes flashed angrily. "You've got a family! You hug, don't you? You do
things to gether, like a family should."
"Sure.
"We didn't. My father and I, I mean. Not since Mom died. He didn't love me
much before that, but afterward, he never had time for me. I didn't even see
him at meals.
"It was like he didn't want me there. Like he wanted me to vanish, to be a
non-person.
There's nothing worse you can do to somebody, Joe. Nothing!
"Nothing," she repeated softly, then she started to cry again. He stood and
pulled her to him, hugging her. She clung to him like a child, and after a few
minutes, her sobs quieted.
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"That explains why you left home," he said gently. "But how did you, get
hooked up with the cult?"
She pulled away from him, suspicious again. "You're working for my father,
aren't you? He's the one who sent you."
"No. He sent our dad. You know him. Fenton Hardy, the detective. He couldn't
do anything for you, so we decided to give it a shot."
"So you are working for my father."
Joe shook his head. "He doesn't know what we were doing. Neither does our
father. We did it for you, not them. So why don't you trust me?"
Why should I?" She turned away, arms wrapped around herself. "I trusted
Frank. But he's gone now. Why did he have to go?"
"Blame it on the Rajah!" Joe shouted. "He sent his goons after us." Joe calmed
himself down. "Look, I'll tell you everything I know. When I was in the
Rajah's' home, I heard him talking about big plans. You were at the center of
them."
Holly gasped. "Me? What do you mean? How could I-?"
"I don't know," Joe replied. "That's why you've got to talk."
She stared at him for along time. At last she said, All right.
"It was horrible," she began. "I had to leave home. I couldn't stay there
anymore. But I
had
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nowhere to go. My mother had left me some money, so I took it with me. I
thought I
could live off it for a long time, if I was careful.
"I went to New York. My father probably didn't even notice. By the end of my
first day, I had found a cheap hotel to live in. They made you pay by the day,
which would make my money run out quicker, but I was going to get a job. There
are a lot of acting jobs in New York. I think I'd make a good actress, don't
you?
"I would have, too," Holly continued without waiting for Joe to answer. "Every
day for a week, I went out and looked for a job. But there were lots of other
girls looking, too. I
never got to prove myself. It was awful. And I always had this feeling I was
being watched, like someone was waiting to get me.
"The first time I noticed any of the Rajah's people, they were dancing outside
my hotel. I
guess that was three or four days after I got there. They seemed so happy and
. . .
and loving. And loved. It made me think of everything I wanted and never had.
They were a family.
"One day I came back to my room and found I'd been robbed. I'd hidden my
money, but it was gone. All of it. So I complained to the manager, and she
accused me of trying to get out of paying the rent. She took all my stuff and
threw me out. On the street!
Where was I supposed to go? All I could do was cry and cry and cry.
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"Then he was there.
"He brushed away my tears and called me little sister and told me there was
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