Read Crosscurrents Page 8


  Not wanting to dwell on gruesome possibilities, Nancy turned away from the water and walked along the bridge. She had just reached the end, where the wood gave way to the asphalt path, when the moonlight disappeared once again. Moving ahead in the darkness, Nancy stepped off the wooden planking and onto the path.

  At the same moment, the moonlight returned, and Nancy’s eyes fixed on a dark, patterned circle beneath her feet. Her senses told her to step back, but it was too late.

  Nancy gasped as the webbed pattern rose around her, wrapping her in its grip.

  It was a net! Nancy felt herself being lifted through the air. Her knees came up to her chest as she collapsed inside the swinging net.

  The trap had been sprung!

  The net was still swinging as Nancy looked down at the stream below her. She was tangled in a net, dangling in the air twenty feet above a brook full of jungle creatures!

  Chapter

  Ten

  SLIPPING HER FINGERS through the loose weave of the net, Nancy held on and forced herself to think rationally.

  The security guard was downstairs. Was one of his monitors tuned in on the rain forest? If so, could he see her there in the dark?

  There was a chance someone else was working late. Hadn’t the curators stressed that they were on call twenty-four hours a day?

  But she also knew that the three curators in charge of the rain forest were out of town at a convention. And she hadn’t run across anyone else working late on level five.

  Still, it wouldn’t hurt to try to roust anyone who might be passing by. “Help!” she shouted. “Is anyone out there? Can you hear me?”

  Birds flapped and shrieked around her, upset by the noise. Otherwise there was no response.

  As she hung in the air, Nancy considered another option. The net between her fingers felt as if it was made of nylon. She could use her Swiss army knife to cut through it. But what then?

  The churning stream raced by twenty feet below her. She couldn’t jump—it was too far down. Also, she couldn’t be sure that the aquarium’s piranhas didn’t live there.

  Then she had an idea. The bridge was only about ten feet down, but it was off to her right. She wasn’t sure she could jump onto it from the net.

  Deciding to try anyway, Nancy squirmed in the net as she pulled out the knife and opened it. The sharp blade sliced through the net easily, and in a minute she had cut a hole large enough to slip through.

  Here goes! Nancy linked her fingers through the mesh of the net and closed her hands, making sure that she had a good grip. Then she pushed her feet through the hole and let her body slide free.

  Suspended in the air, holding on tightly to the net, she kicked out hard. Soon she had the momentum she needed. She swung back and forth like a pendulum, out over the water, then over the bridge. Her feet swept near the railing of the bridge as she passed over it, but she couldn’t touch the rail.

  Arching her back, she kicked out even harder. Swinging toward the bridge once again, she realized it was now or never.

  Taking a deep breath, Nancy aimed her feet toward the walkway of the bridge and let go of the net. She leapt through the air, arched over the railing, and landed in a heap on the bridge.

  With a sigh of relief, Nancy stood up, brushed off her jeans, and raced through the rain forest. She ran along the path, flung open the door—and ran smack into the broad chest of Chris Marconi!

  “What are you doing here?” he asked.

  Chris was still a suspect. In fact, he could have been the person who had set the trap! “What brings you up here?” Nancy countered.

  An embarrassed look crossed Chris’s handsome face. “I was working late, and sometimes I like to come up here to think.”

  When Nancy eyed him dubiously, he shrugged, adding, “Don’t tell anyone. I wouldn’t want people to think I’m one of those sensitive types.”

  Nancy was still considering his explanation when Chris asked her why she was so shaken up. She decided there was no harm in telling the truth.

  Chris’s blue eyes narrowed. “Who’d want to string you up in the rain forest?”

  “Someone trying to scare me off this case.” Nancy watched to see if he reacted to that, but Chris seemed unfazed.

  “It may be scary, but it’s not dangerous in there. I mean, there’s a pack of killer piranhas, but they’re confined in an inaccessible tank. Not even you could stumble into that one.”

  Nancy grimaced. “So you heard about my little swim in the animal care complex?”

  “It’s the talk of the aquarium,” he said, giving her a devilish wink. “I’m just sorry I missed it.”

  Nancy changed the subject. She needed to know if Chris had a valid reason for being there that evening. As casually as she could, she asked, “So you’re working late tonight?”

  “I’ve got a sick shark on my hands. Come on—I’ll introduce you.”

  Nancy hesitated a moment. She wanted to find out who had caught her in the trap. But she couldn’t go back into the rain forest alone, in case someone was still waiting. And she couldn’t ask Chris to go with her, in case he was the person responsible. At least, she thought, if Chris was the person responsible, he wouldn’t make another attempt that night. Also, if she went with him, she could find out if he was telling the truth about the sick shark. “Okay,” she said. “Let’s go.”

  They walked over to the cylinder housing the ring tanks and took the stairs down to the first level. Chris took Nancy into a room behind the shark exhibit. There he showed her the shark he had been nursing, which swam sluggishly through the tank.

  Chris had some things to finish up, and Nancy was anxious to talk to the guard. She said good night to Chris, then went down to the guard’s station. She told him what had happened in the rain forest. The guard was distressed. He told her that he hadn’t noticed anything unusual on the monitor, but he promised her that he would cut down the net as soon as he was relieved so that she could examine it. She hoped to be able to find out who in the aquarium might use a large, nylon net.

  • • •

  When George returned from the game, Nancy was sitting in bed, trying unsuccessfully to read. She couldn’t concentrate—she kept thinking about Chris.

  “Do you think he was the one who lured you into the rain forest?” George asked when she heard Nancy’s story.

  “I hope not,” Nancy admitted. “I can’t help liking him. And he really does have a sick shark in isolation. I saw it myself.” Nancy paused before adding, “But I can’t rule him out as a suspect.”

  George sat on her bed and pulled off her sneakers. “If you ask me, there are too many suspects—and tomorrow is Thursday! Don’t forget, Annie’s memorial service is at noon.”

  “And then there’s the big party on Friday night,” Nancy pointed out.

  George nodded. “Jackson says his father is panicked. He’s held the press off so far, but there won’t be any way to avoid their embarrassing questions at Friday’s party.”

  Nancy stretched out and put aside her book. “I’ve got to solve this case before that party!”

  • • •

  “I’m sorry, ladies, but there’s no one here who can handle your questions today,” the harried receptionist told Nancy and George.

  Right after breakfast Thursday morning, they had driven to Mills, located in the heart of Baltimore’s business district. The company’s headquarters was abuzz with activity and an undercurrent of alarm.

  The receptionist’s phone rang repeatedly, and Nancy and George heard a few passing employees gossiping about Stuart Feinstein.

  Deciding on another approach, Nancy smiled sweetly and asked the receptionist, “How about Stuart Feinstein? Is he in today?”

  “Of course not!” The woman regarded them suspiciously. “Are you reporters?”

  “No.” Nancy held up her hands in a defensive gesture. “We’re working on a paper for school.”

  “Thank goodness.” The receptionist glanced down the hall warily
. “If someone hears me spouting off to a reporter, I’ll lose my job. Things have been crazy here ever since that girl drowned. Between the reporters, cameras, and police, my bosses are tearing their hair out.”

  “Are they afraid of bad press?” George asked.

  “Of course,” the woman confided. “It would look terrible for the company if Stuart Feinstein was actually spying on Mills! Monitoring our recycling program on his own! One of our own employees! Chances are, if he ever shows his face here again, he’ll be fired on the spot.”

  Nancy and George mulled over Stuart’s situation as they drove through the streets of Baltimore toward the Paperworks factory. “If Stuart killed Annie to get her off the trail of Mills, his plan backfired,” Nancy said. “The press is hounding the company, and now that Stuart is under suspicion, Mills has abandoned him.”

  “On the other hand,” George pointed out, “if Stuart is innocent, he’s in a real bind now.”

  “You’re right,” Nancy said. “He’s lost his girlfriend and his job. And he could be on the run, hiding out—or even dead.”

  Pulling the car into the parking lot outside the waterfront factory of Paperworks, Nancy added, “I wish I could find Stuart. He’s the key to this case, and one of the prime suspects.”

  Inside the massive Paperworks building, the girls were asked to wait. “Our public relations director will be with you in a moment,” the receptionist said, peering over his reading glasses.

  Nancy and George sat in the empty waiting area. After a few minutes of leafing through magazines, Nancy became impatient. Noticing a water fountain in a hallway off the waiting room, she told George, “I’ll be right back.”

  Down the hall, Nancy took a long drink, then paused as she spotted a doorway marked Employees Only. This was her chance to get the behind-the-scenes look that she wanted, not some speech from a smooth public relations person.

  Without hesitating, Nancy pushed open the door and ducked inside. She found herself standing in another corridor, and she could hear the thrum of heavy machinery. Nancy moved down the hall to a pair of heavy doors. She pushed one door open and poked her head inside.

  Even though her view was blocked by a frosted glass partition a few feet from the door, Nancy could tell that the machinery was in this huge chamber. The noise was deafening, and a familiar odor burned her nostrils. It reminded her of laundry detergent—the smell of bleach.

  “Hey, what’s going on?”

  Nancy blinked as a stout man wearing goggles and blue coveralls came barreling toward her. Nancy backed out of the room into the hall. A second later, the door flew open, and the angry man stood before her.

  “You can’t go in there without protective gear,” he said, pulling off his goggles to reveal a wide face splattered with freckles. “Didn’t you see the sign?”

  “Guess I missed it,” Nancy said apologetically, studying the man’s face. He had short-cropped red hair and a no-nonsense attitude. Something about him seemed familiar. The nametag on his lab coat said Daniel Cribbins. Nancy mulled the name over, but it didn’t ring a bell.

  She decided to risk asking him a question. “It smells like bleach in there. Is something being cleaned?”

  “That’s chlorine,” Cribbins told her, pulling his goggles over his face again. “That’s what we use to bleach the paper pulp. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to get back to work.”

  Chlorine! The word echoed through Nancy’s head as she walked back down the corridor. That was the chemical that killed the porcupine fish!

  Nancy knew that anyone could buy chlorine in a swimming pool supply store, but she hadn’t realized that it would be easily accessible to someone who worked in a paper factory.

  She was about to enter the reception area when she noticed a familiar woman sitting on the couch, leafing through a magazine. The shiny silver hair and petite figure belonged to the developer Lydia Cleveland.

  Lingering beyond the doorway, Nancy observed a well-dressed man emerge from the opposite hallway. “Lydia!” he gushed. “So sorry to keep you waiting. If you’ll follow me, I believe we’re ready to sign those papers.”

  As soon as they disappeared down the hall, Nancy rushed into the reception area and squeezed in next to George. “What in the world is Lydia Cleveland doing here?” she whispered.

  George’s eyes were bright with excitement. “I heard the receptionist talking to her. Apparently, Ms. Cleveland has offered to sell Paperworks a huge parcel of waterfront land at Terns Landing.”

  “Terns Landing!” Nancy whispered hoarsely.

  “Paperworks plans to use the land to build another factory,” George added.

  Twenty minutes later, Nancy and George left the Paperworks building and walked to the car. As Nancy had expected, the public relations director gave them the standard, boring spiel. On the other hand, Nancy and George had picked up some valuable information.

  “Now I understand what Lydia was talking about last night when she implied that Terns Landing would no longer be her problem,” Nancy said. Then she told George what she had found behind the scenes. “I was chased away by a burly man named Cribbins,” she added. “He looked familiar. Do you remember meeting anyone by that name?”

  George shook her head.

  “Nancy Drew!” someone called when the girls were halfway across the parking lot. Nancy spun around to find Detective DePaulo stepping out of an unmarked car and buttoning his cashmere coat.

  He closed the car door and joined Nancy and George. “I hope you’re leaving town soon,” he said with a wry grin, “because you’re ruining my case. Every time I approach a suspect or a witness for a statement, I learn that you’ve already grilled him.” The detective grinned. “I’m impressed.”

  “Well, I suspect that you got to Lydia Cleveland long before I did,” Nancy replied. “I just mentioned Annie’s name, and she went running out the door.”

  DePaulo’s hazel eyes twinkled. “Maybe I did beat you on that one.”

  Nancy told him what she had just learned, about Lydia Cleveland selling the land to Paperworks.

  “No kidding?” Detective DePaulo seemed surprised. “That’s big money for her. I wonder if she’d kill someone who might stand in the way. I must say, ladies, you’ve gotten pretty far on this case—and you don’t even have badges!”

  • • •

  When they returned to the aquarium, the girls went to Jonathan Winston’s office to give him an update on the case. “It sounds like you’re making progress,” Dr. Winston agreed. “And not a moment too soon.” He picked up a stack of message slips from his desk and waved them in the air. “These are all calls from local reporters. I can’t put off the press much longer.”

  “I’ll do my best to clear everything up before the party,” Nancy promised. “But whether it’s Mills, Lydia Cleveland, or Paperworks threatening the task force and the aquarium, I don’t think they’re working alone.” Frowning, she explained, “I’m fairly sure that one of your employees is involved.”

  “Is it Chris Marconi?” Dr. Winston asked.

  “I’m not sure,” Nancy admitted.

  After agreeing to meet again before the party, Nancy and George got up to leave. “Where to now?” George asked when they were outside.

  “I want to find that guard who said he’d cut down the net for me. I’d like to take a look at it.”

  “Jackson always seems to know where everyone is,” George observed. “We can find him by the shark tank right now.”

  “You’re keeping close tabs on old Jackson, huh?” Nancy teased.

  George blushed slightly. “It’s not like that, Nan. But he is nice, isn’t he?”

  When they arrived at the bottom of the circular ramp that twisted around the shark tank, Nancy saw Jackson talking with one of the other interns.

  “Hey!” he called. “You’re just in time to watch Chris take a dive in the shark tank.” Jackson explained that the shark that was in isolation the night before had been placed back in the Open Ocean
exhibit. “But the area’s been temporarily closed to the public while Chris dives in to check on the shark’s progress and give him some medication.”

  “There he is!” George pointed to the tank.

  Chris swam into view, wearing a black wet suit. He waved at the group.

  “Look at that thing!” said George, indicating a long fish that was trailing Chris. “It must be five feet long.”

  “That’s a barracuda,” Jackson explained. “It’s not a shark, but it’s a feisty fish.”

  As Chris turned to look behind a group of rocks, Nancy noticed a fluorescent yellow ring hanging from the back of his air tank.

  “That’s strange,” she murmured aloud. “I’ve gone on dives before, but I don’t remember that ring as part of the diving gear.”

  The barracuda had noticed the bright ring, too. The huge silver-and-blue fish still lingered behind Chris, darting behind his back, nosing the ring. But Chris didn’t seem to be aware of the barracuda behind him.

  “That fish is beginning to go wild,” Nancy said. She tapped on the glass, trying to warn Chris, but he couldn’t hear her.

  As Chris moved, the ring wiggled in the water, and the barracuda started to snap at it with its sharp teeth. By now Nancy was waving frantically, but Chris didn’t notice.

  “He doesn’t even know the barracuda is behind him,” said Jackson.

  “Oh, no!” George gasped.

  Nancy watched in horror as the barracuda lunged after the ring. It missed the ring, but its sharp teeth cut right through Chris’s wet suit and into the skin of his shoulder.

  A moment later, a cloud of blood blossomed in the water.

  A burst of bubbles rose from Chris’s mouthpiece as the shock hit him. Beneath his mask, Nancy could see the horrified look in his eyes as he realized he was being attacked by a barracuda!

  Chapter

  Eleven