Nancy shook her head. “I was just thinking about that green eagle tattoo. It sounds pretty unusual. And about that guy Tom Kragen. You said he was being kind of a pest, Bess. What kind of pest?”
“The won’t-take-no-for-an-answer kind of pest,” Bess replied. “I tried being tactful when he asked me for dates in the past, but tonight I had to let him know there wasn’t a chance.”
“How did he take it?” Nancy asked.
Bess shrugged. “He was a little annoyed, and kind of slunk off.” She frowned, fastening the buttons on her mauve dressing gown.
“What are you thinking, Nancy?” George asked as she slipped into a goose down sleeping bag that Mrs. Marvin had retrieved from the attic. “Do you think this Tom Kragen could have been involved in Bess’s abduction?”
Nancy shook her head. “Not from what we’ve heard so far. But he was taking pictures shortly before she was grabbed. I want those pictures to see if they reveal anything unusual.”
Bess crawled under the covers. “I think I once heard Tom say he works part-time at his father’s granite quarry,” she said, her voice muffled by her pillow.
“Good,” Nancy replied. “We’ll look for him first thing tomorrow morning.”
Soon, Nancy could tell from the sound of their even breathing that Bess and George were sound asleep. She turned over restlessly in her sleeping bag and stared at the clock radio on Bess’s side table. The glowing green numerals read three-thirty A.M.
Nancy was unable to drift off to sleep. Lying half-awake, she listened to the breeze rustling in the trees outside Bess’s first-story window.
Suddenly another noise—a sharp, scraping sound—startled Nancy completely awake.
Nancy slipped out of her sleeping bag and crept toward Bess’s window. The window curtains were backlit by the light from a full moon. Nancy’s pulse quickened as she watched an inky black shadow move across the windowpane. It was the shadow of someone prowling around outside.
Chapter
Six
WITHOUT MAKING A SOUND, Nancy grabbed the Princess phone from Bess’s bedside table and dialed 911. “Break-in in progress at the Marvin residence,” she whispered, and gave the police dispatcher the address.
The shadow moved away from Bess’s window. Nancy dropped the phone and darted to the window to catch a glimpse of the intruder. She got a brief impression of a man in a jacket running across the yard.
“What is it, Nancy?” George’s sleepy voice rose up from her sleeping bag. Then she sat up alertly. “Did something happen?”
Bess was wide-awake by now. “I heard it, too, Nancy. I’m scared that it’s going to happen all over again,” she moaned.
“Someone was trying to break into Bess’s room,” Nancy said tightly. “I’ve already called the police.” Even as she spoke, Nancy could see the pulsing blue light of a police patrol car flash across the lawn.
• • •
“There are your prowler’s footprints,” the officer said, pointing to an impression in the soft soil beneath Bess’s window.
The police had responded to Nancy’s call for help within minutes. Nancy, Bess, George, and Bess’s parents were clustered around the tall, rangy River Heights police officer, discussing the attempted break-in.
“This has gone too far. I want round-the-clock protection for my daughter until we get to the bottom of this,” Bess’s father said to Officer T. Jones, who had responded to the first report about Bess’s abduction.
Flashlight in hand, Jones knelt down to study the footprints. Nancy looked over his shoulder at the prints. They were large—about a size thirteen, Nancy estimated—and the sole had the distinctive waffle-pattern of an expensive leather running shoe.
“Did you get a look at the man?” Jones asked Nancy. Nancy described what she’d seen. “I’m betting this attempted break-in is connected to Bess’s abduction,” she told him.
“I’m sure you’re right,” Jones replied. “I’m going to call my lieutenant to get them to assign someone to watch your house, Mr. and Mrs. Marvin.” He turned away and lifted a bulky two-way radio from his leather belt. After exchanging a few words with someone back at the police station, he nodded to Nancy and the others. “They’ll be posting someone to watch the house for the next couple of days. I’ll stay until they get here.”
“That’s great,” Nancy said. After talking with the officer for a few more minutes and learning that the police had turned up no leads from their investigation of the Razor’s Edge, she and George turned to follow the Marvins back into the house. Nancy mulled the recent events over in her mind. Bess had been released, but now there’d been this prowler incident. Was Bess still in danger? And again, Nancy asked herself, Why Bess?
As soon as they were back in the house, Nancy, Bess, and George fell into exhausted sleep.
• • •
By the time Nancy opened her eyes the next day, it was late morning. After saying goodbye to Bess and her parents, Nancy and George stopped off at their homes to change clothes and grab a bite of breakfast. Then they drove directly to the Kragen quarry.
Although it was Saturday, the quarry was in full operation. The quarry site was an open granite pit set in the midst of some rolling hills about ten miles east of River Heights.
As they turned into the parking lot, Nancy and George were startled by the rumbling of an underground blast, which was followed by ground tremors.
“This must be what an earthquake feels like,” Nancy said, stopping the car. The girls could see a mushroom cloud of dust and debris rising from the huge granite pit.
“It would take a lot of dynamite to blast through all that solid rock,” George said, taking in her surroundings.
Nancy nodded. “These guys must really know how to deal with explosives,” she commented.
Nancy and George got out of the car and headed toward a trailer that was being used as an office. It was set about twenty yards back from the edge of the quarry. A sign on the trailer said: KRAGEN QUARRY—DANGER—EXPLOSIVES—VISITORS MUST BE ESCORTED.
“Hey, you there!” An older man came running across the parking lot toward Nancy and George. He had a big stomach and curly hair that was beginning to turn gray underneath his yellow hard hat. He was an older version of Tom Kragen. “You looking for somebody?” he asked.
“Are you Mr. Kragen?” Nancy inquired. When the man nodded, she added, “We’re looking for your son, Tom.”
Mr. Kragen became unexpectedly pleased. “Well, now,” he said with a smile. “You must be Bess Marvin. Tom’s told me a lot about you.”
“No, I’m not Bess,” Nancy said, taken aback. “I’m Nancy Drew, a friend of hers. But I need to talk to Tom about Bess.”
“Oh.” Mr. Kragen’s face fell slightly. “Sorry about the mix-up. Tom told me he was dating a beautiful blond lassie named Bess, and you certainly fit the bill. You’ll find Tom in the office over yonder,” he said, waving his hand toward the trailer. “Grab a couple of hard hats if you’re going to be here more than a few minutes,” he added.
“Why do you think Tom Kragen lied to his father about being involved with Bess?” George whispered as they climbed two stairs up to the office door. “That’s really weird.”
“I don’t know,” Nancy replied. “But he definitely has some explaining to do.”
Tom Kragen was sitting behind a desk, surrounded by piles of paperwork. In a business setting, he looked much older than he had at the club the night before.
“Hello there. Can I help you?” Tom pushed his glasses farther up on his nose as he greeted them. The thick glasses magnified his pale green eyes, making them appear larger than normal. He was wearing a light blue shirt and running shoes. “I remember you,” he said slowly. “You two were with Bess at the Razor’s Edge last night. Have a seat.”
“That’s right,” Nancy said, taking a chair. “I’m Nancy Drew, and this is George Fayne.”
“Is Bess here, too?” Nancy detected a note of anxiety in Tom’s voice. She shook her h
ead.
“Bess is the person I came here to talk about.” She told him how Bess had been abducted the night before. Tom acted shocked.
“Who do you think did it?” he asked, adjusting his glasses again.
“That’s what we’re trying to find out,” Nancy said. “You were taking pictures at the club last night, weren’t you?”
“Yes.” Tom nodded. “In fact, I know I have a few shots of Bess. She looked so great in that mermaid outfit.”
“Did you notice anything unusual, or see anyone who looked out of place?” Nancy asked.
Tom shook his head. “I was too busy taking pictures to notice, I’m afraid.”
“Have the pictures been developed yet? I’d like to see them. The ones with Bess in them, plus any others you have of the party,” Nancy said.
Tom rose from his chair. “I’ve got a makeshift darkroom in the back.”
Nancy and George followed Tom down a narrow hallway into a small room that had been converted into a darkroom. “One advantage of being the boss’s son—you get to pursue your hobbies on company time,” Tom said with a grin.
In the glowing red light of the darkroom, Nancy peered at several photographs that Tom had tacked onto a corkboard wall. A couple of the photos featured Bess wearing her mermaid outfit at the club the night before.
Nancy glanced at some of the other photographs that were scattered about the room. “Here’s a photograph of Bess at her riding club,” she observed.
Nancy suddenly became aware that many of the pictures on the walls were photos of Bess that had been taken at various times over the past year. It almost looked as if Tom had been doing a photographic study of Bess. She thought it seemed strange. “You seem to have taken quite a few pictures of Bess,” Nancy said to Tom in a neutral tone.
Tom suddenly became aware of what Nancy was thinking. “I think Bess is really photogenic,” he said hastily. “I’m starting a portfolio that I hope will land me a photography job one of these days.”
Nancy decided to press Tom about his father’s earlier comment. “George and I met your father just outside the trailer. He said you’d told him that you and Bess were dating,” Nancy said. “Why did you say that?”
The dim light of the darkroom couldn’t hide the embarrassed blush that had crept up Tom’s neck and face. He turned away to fumble with some beakers on the worktable. “I guess he just misunderstood when I said that Bess and I are friends,” he said awkwardly. Tom quickly un-tacked the pictures of the party from the cork-board and offered them to Nancy. “Here, you can take these if you want.”
“Thanks,” Nancy said. She decided to wait until they were outside to study the photographs more closely. “By the way,” she added, keeping her tone casual. “You left the party kind of early last night. Didn’t you like the music?”
“Oh, I’m not much of a dancer.” Tom opened the door of the darkroom. “I came back here to develop the photos.” He led the way back to the main office. “Since you’re here, why don’t I give you a tour of the quarry,” he added.
Nancy hesitated, then nodded her head. “Sure, why not,” she agreed. The tour would give her a chance to talk to Tom on his own turf.
As they left the trailer, Tom handed Nancy and George a couple of yellow hard hats. “We have to be really careful around here, what with all the blasting we do,” he explained. Remembering the prowler’s footprints from the night before, Nancy studied Tom’s shoes. They looked fairly large—they could be a size thirteen, Nancy thought. She purposely hung back a few steps for a moment while they walked through the loose earth toward the quarry. She noticed that his footprints didn’t have the same distinctive waffle-pattern that had been under Bess’s window.
It was almost noon, and the quarry seemed almost deserted. “Everyone on lunch break?” George asked.
Tom nodded. “Since everyone’s gone, we can go right up to the edge of the pit,” he said, leading Nancy and George through the gate of a safety chain-link fence. They walked about fifteen yards to the rock-strewn lip of the vast, yawning gravel pit.
The mouth of the pit was surrounded on two sides by rocky outcroppings from the surrounding hills. Far below, Nancy could see some ladders and equipment that workers had left behind. From that vantage point, the equipment looked like children’s toys.
Nancy, Tom, and George walked along a downward sloping, narrow ledge that ran underneath a sheer wall of rock at the edge of the pit. Looking at the rock walls, Nancy could see long, grooved striations in the rock. “That’s where we drill down to put in the dynamite,” Tom explained. He suddenly turned his head, listening. “I think I hear my dad calling. Just a second.” He turned and retraced his steps along the ledge until he was out of sight.
“Where’d he go?” George asked after a moment.
Nancy shrugged. “Let’s not wait for him,” she said. “I can always talk to him later. Right now I want to get back to the car and study these photographs.”
“Good idea,” George said, turning to leave. “I think I’ve seen as much of a quarry as I care to see in one lifetime.”
A sharp, cracking sound came from somewhere overhead. Nancy and George stopped and looked up at the rocky outcropping. To her dismay, Nancy saw that part of the face of the wall had dislodged and was sliding down into the gravel pit. A large boulder was jarred loose by the falling earth and began tumbling down the wall. Tumbling straight toward Nancy and George!
Chapter
Seven
LOOK OUT, GEORGE!” Nancy cried out. The boulder was almost upon them. She sprang forward and pushed George ahead of her on the ledge. Jagged pebbles bit into Nancy’s palm as she and George fell into a sprawling heap on the gravel.
The boulder landed with a sickening thud just inches behind Nancy’s heels. A cloud of dust and fine debris rose from the site.
George was the first to clamber to her feet. “Are you okay, Nan?” she asked anxiously. “It looks like you’re hurt.”
“I’m okay.” Nancy picked herself up from the dusty ground and gingerly tested her limbs. She felt a little tenderness on her palm and knees where the gravel had scraped them when she fell.
The loud, long wail of an emergency alarm siren shattered the air. A handful of quarry workers, some holding half-eaten sandwiches, came running toward the pit. They were led by Tom Kragen’s father. “What happened? Are you girls hurt?” Mr. Kragen’s voice was tight with concern.
“We’re okay, but it was a close call,” said Nancy, whose pulse was still racing. “That boulder down there almost flattened us.”
“Where’s Tom?” Anger crept into Mr. Kragen’s tone. “This area’s not safe. Did he let you out here without an escort?”
“I’m right here.” Tom appeared behind the group of men who had accompanied Mr. Kragen. “I was out here with them. Then I thought I heard you calling me.”
“You never leave visitors alone here! Never!” Mr. Kragen’s voice roared with rage. “These young ladies could have been killed.”
Tom lowered his eyes and poked at the dust with his shoe. “I’m sorry,” he said, not quite meeting Nancy’s eyes.
“What would cause a rockslide like that?” Nancy pressed the elder Kragen.
“We constantly use explosives, which makes for a very unstable ground environment,” Mr. Kragen explained. “The boulders you see all around us could let loose any second.”
As if to underscore Mr. Kragen’s words, the earth under their feet trembled slightly. “Let’s get out of here,” he added quickly.
Tom remained silent as they walked back to the office. Nancy and George refused Mr. Kragen’s offer of a cup of hot tea and said goodbye.
“Wow, that was too close.” George shook her head as they climbed back into Nancy’s car. “Tom’s father was really giving him a hard time for leaving us there alone, wasn’t he?”
“Yes, but Tom didn’t seem too upset about it,” Nancy commented.
“I can see wheels turning behind those blue eyes, Nan,”
George said shrewdly. “What are you thinking about all this?”
Nancy turned the key in the ignition, and the Mustang’s powerful engine roared to life. “Maybe it’s nothing, but I find it interesting that Tom led us into a dangerous area and then left, just moments after I confronted him about his relationship with Bess.”
“You mean the fact that he lied to his father about dating her?” George asked.
Nancy nodded. “That, plus the fact that he has taken all those photographs of her over the past year. Some of the shots looked as if they were taken without her being aware of them. It’s possible that he’s obsessed with her.”
“He wouldn’t be the first guy,” George said, grinning.
Nancy frowned as she maneuvered her car onto the highway. “I’m serious, George. People with real obsessions have been known to do desperate things, things like . . .”
“Like kidnapping?” George said, finishing Nancy’s thought with a somber question.
“Exactly.” Nancy nodded. “I also couldn’t help noticing that he had rather large feet, just like the prowler at Bess’s house last night. And he doesn’t have an alibi for what he did after the party at the Edge. He said he came back here to develop the pictures, but he’d have been alone. I think I should do some more checking.” She steered the car out of the parking lot. “If he was behind it, he must have had an accomplice.” She frowned. “And he must have had access to the club to rig Bess’s abduction.”
“That’s right,” George remarked. “He would have had to have been able to cut the lights and the alarm door wire, and have gotten hold of the ether to knock her out.”
Nancy nodded. “He has quite a collection of chemicals in his darkroom, I noticed. I’m sure he’d have no trouble getting access to something like ether.”
Nancy pulled up to a roadside stand that was selling pumpkins for Halloween. “I can’t believe it’s almost Halloween,” George said. “Why are we stopping here?”
Nancy slowed the car. “Now that we’re out of the Kragens’ sight, I want to look at those pictures.”