Glancing back into the house, Nancy saw that Stephanie had returned to the living room and was now deep in conversation with Morgan.
“It looks as if Joanna’s been here this morning,” George said. She had stepped up to a glass-topped table shaded by a red umbrella. “Here’s a carafe of coffee and two cups with coffee in them.”
Nancy touched one of the cups. “It’s still warm,” she said. “So where’s Miss Burton? And who was drinking coffee with her?”
Something about the scene made Nancy very uneasy. The dog was still edgy and whined as it sniffed around the terrace.
“Nancy, look down there, over by those rocks. Are those sea otters?” George asked.
Following George’s gaze, Nancy spotted the brown animals swimming among the rocks. “They’re adorable,” Nancy said, her mind still on Joanna Burton.
“Let’s go take a closer look at the otters,” George said, starting down the steep steps. “Maybe Joanna Burton went for a walk on the beach, and we’ll run into her.”
Nancy hesitated. “Okay.” She finally gave in. “But let’s go for just a minute, okay?”
George was halfway down the steps when she stopped suddenly, causing Nancy to bump into her.
“Uh, no!” George exclaimed. There was no mistaking the note of alarm in her voice. “Nancy, look down there.” She pointed down to the beach at the foot of the wooden staircase.
The first thing Nancy saw was a swirl of hot pink fabric. Then she caught sight of the dark hair and the outstretched, immobile hand.
The realization hit her in a sickening flash. A woman’s body lay crumpled at the bottom of the steps!
Chapter
Eight
NANCY’S STOMACH twisted into a tight knot as she stared down at the inert form. All at once she leapt into action.
“Quick. Go get Stephanie and Morgan, and then phone for help,” she said to George.
As George eased past Nancy back up the stairs Nancy hurried down to the beach. When she reached the sand she definitely recognized Joanna Burton’s lovely features, with her high, delicate brows. There was no blood on her, but the woman’s neck was bent at an odd angle. Just looking at it made Nancy’s stomach flip.
Kneeling beside the actress, Nancy felt for a pulse. There was none.
She sat back on her heels and took a deep breath. “Stay calm, Drew,” she told herself. It wasn’t easy. The actress’s dog had followed Nancy down the stairs and was now whining pitifully.
Trying not to look at Joanna Burton’s neck, Nancy quickly looked for some clue to what had happened. The side seam of the actress’s beach wrap was ripped and hanging loose at one side. Her right hand was tightly clenched, but Nancy couldn’t tell if she was holding anything in it.
Nancy jumped as a scream rang out from above her, quickly followed by muffled sobs. Looking up, she saw Morgan, his arm around Stephanie, standing at the top of the steps. George was halfway down the stairs.
“Is she–” George called down, somehow knowing the answer.
Nancy nodded grimly. Brushing the sand off her knees, she slowly stood up.
“Morgan called the police and an ambulance,” George said. “What do you think happened?”
“I’m not sure. It looks as if she fell down the stairs. Her beach wrap is torn, though, which makes me think there might have been a struggle,” Nancy said. “I think she’s holding something, but we have to wait for the police to check it out.”
George picked up the dog again and cuddled it close to her body. She and Nancy were both somber as they climbed up the steps to the house. Morgan and Stephanie had moved into the living room.
“I should have gotten here earlier,” Stephanie murmured, staring out through the French Doors at the ocean. “Joanna called me last night. She said that Marcia Cheung had phoned, wanting to talk to her about that necklace. I told her not to say one word to her, to let the police handle it.”
“You think Marcia had something to do with this?” Nancy asked. She couldn’t imagine Marcia killing anyone.
“I wouldn’t jump to conclusions, Stephanie,” Morgan said nervously. “Joanna could have tripped and fallen down the steps.”
Nancy suddenly remembered the two cups on the terrace. “Do you know if anyone else was visiting Miss Burton this morning?” she asked Stephanie. “There are two cups on the patio table, and the coffee in them is still warm.”
“All I know is that Marcia wanted to see her,” Stephanie replied. “Joanna said she was frightened because Marcia seemed so angry.”
Marcia, angry? That didn’t sound like the same person Nancy had met the night before. Nancy would have to check into Stephanie’s claim.
“Did Joanna mention that anyone else had talked to her?” Nancy asked.
Stephanie shook her head.
Before Nancy could ask her next question, sirens announced the arrival of the police and ambulance. Morgan hurried to answer the intercom.
Nancy recognized the first person who entered. It was the woman she and George had seen at Marcia’s store the day before. The woman walked into the living room followed by two uniformed officers and two paramedics carrying a stretcher. Morgan followed them in, then stationed himself beside the French doors.
The woman introduced herself as Detective Bommarito, then asked everyone else to stay put while she and her crew went down to Miss Burton’s body. When the detective returned she spoke briefly to Morgan Fowler in hushed tones. Nancy heard the words “broken neck.”
After a moment the detective came over to where Nancy, George, and Stephanie were waiting in the living room. “Were any of you present when Miss Burton fell?” Detective Bommarito asked them.
They all shook their heads.
“This is Nancy Drew and her friend George Fayne,” Morgan said to the detective. “They came here to talk to Joanna about her necklace. Nancy’s a detective. She’s working for Marcia Cheung.”
“A detective?” Detective Bommarito’s eyes narrowed. She was anything but impressed.
“And this is Stephanie Cooke, Joanna’s agent,” Morgan went on, moving over to Stephanie. The agent’s face was tear-streaked. A few tendrils of red hair had come loose from her French twist and were hanging in frizzy strands around her face.
Stephanie took a deep breath, then spoke in a numb voice. “Joanna called me last night. She was worried because Marcia kept calling to talk to her about the necklace. I told her not to talk to Marcia until I got here.”
“What time did Miss Burton call you, Stephanie?” Nancy asked.
“What time?” Stephanie repeated. “It was late. I’m not really sure.”
Something about what Stephanie had said didn’t make sense to Nancy. Marcia knew Nancy intended to see Joanna Burton. Why would she call herself?
“Do you know if Miss Burton’s beach wrap was torn before today?” Detective Bommarito asked.
Stephanie shook her head adamantly. “Joanna would never have worn anything that wasn’t in perfect condition. She just wouldn’t.”
“What about this?” Detective Bommarito asked, holding up a plastic bag. “Miss Burton was clutching it in her hand. Do you recognize it?”
The bag contained a gold sea otter charm, Nancy saw. Connected to the charm was a twisted, broken loop that had probably attached the charm to a bracelet.
Again Stephanie shook her head. “It doesn’t belong to Joanna.”
With a start, Nancy remembered that Marcia had a bracelet full of gold charms. Nancy couldn’t remember if Marcia had a sea otter or not, but she knew she had to tell the police.
“Marcia Cheung has a charm bracelet,” Nancy told the detective. “I saw it last night.”
“And Cy Baxter makes charms just like that in his jewelry store,” George added.
Detective Bommarito made some notations in the notebook she carried. “Obviously, I’m going to have to ask them both some questions. It looks like someone is missing a charm from a bracelet. And there’s a good chance that that per
son is responsible for Joanna Burton’s death.”
The detective had just confirmed Nancy’s worst suspicion. Joanna Burton hadn’t fallen down the stairs. She had been pushed.
• • •
“I can’t believe Joanna Burton has been murdered,” George said solemnly as she and Nancy drove back toward downtown Carmel.
“Not only that, but it looks as if both Marcia and Cy Baxter are suspects,” Nancy said, frowning. “I’m not sure why either of them would kill her, unless she found out that one of them had stolen her diamonds. I definitely want to talk to Marcia about this right away.”
“From what you said, Marcia doesn’t seem like the violent type at all,” George said. “Len is the one with the bad temper.”
Nancy blinked and suddenly recalled a remark Marcia had made the night before. “Marcia said something about that last night. Apparently Len threatened to confront Joanna Burton and ‘set her straight.’ ”
George shot Nancy a worried glance. “What if he’s the one who pushed her down the steps?” Then she shook herself. “Oh—but that doesn’t make sense. Len wouldn’t have had on a charm bracelet.”
Nancy barely noticed the scenery on the drive back into town. Her mind was swirling with questions. Who had been drinking coffee with Joanna Burton? Who else besides Cy Baxter and Marcia Cheung had Baxter’s charms? Did Joanna’s death have anything to do with the stolen diamonds? And how did the smashed cuckoo clock fit in with all of this? Nancy hoped she could find some answers soon.
As soon as Nancy parked the car she and George headed straight for Marcia’s shop. When they walked in the door, Marcia came hurrying in from the back room. She smiled when she saw Nancy and George.
“Did you talk to Miss Burton?” Marcia asked hopefully. Pale and tired-looking, she had dark circles under her eyes.
Nancy watched Marcia carefully as she told her the news of the actress’s death.
“Dead?” Marcia whispered, her dark eyes widening. “How?” Her right hand grasped her left wrist. Then she glanced down, frowning.
Nancy followed Marcia’s gaze. “Where’s your bracelet?” she asked.
“I don’t know.” Marcia continued to stare at her bare wrist. “I guess I didn’t put it on this morning. I left home so early.” She opened a drawer under the counter, then pushed it shut. “No, I remember putting it on, because I took it off when I got here. I was doing some sketches, and it was getting in the way. Maybe it’s in the workroom—”
Marcia turned to check back in the workroom. Nancy and George followed. “Maybe I didn’t put it on this morning after all,” she decided after a thorough search.
“The police think that Joanna was pushed down the stairs,” Nancy said, fixing Marcia with a sober gaze. “She was holding a charm in her hand when we found her.”
Marcia stared blankly at Nancy, then sat down in a chair. “You don’t think—I wouldn’t—I couldn’t—”
“Joanna Burton’s agent, Stephanie Cooke, claims that Miss Burton said you were calling and annoying her, asking to come see her about the necklace,” George added.
“Why would I do that?” Marcia asked, confused. “You were going to talk to her, so Why would I?”
Nancy raised a question. “You didn’t go out to Miss Burton’s this morning?”
“I—I was with a client here at the store this morning, working on a design,” Marcia replied. Nancy noticed that her eyes shifted nervously and couldn’t help wondering if the young woman was hiding something.
Before she could ask Marcia anything else, the front door to the shop opened. “Hello?” a woman’s voice called out.
“I’ll go see what it’s about,” George offered.
Through the open doorway Nancy heard the woman inquire about a bracelet she’d left to be repaired. “I came by at ten-fifteen to pick it up, but the shop wasn’t open yet,” the woman was saying.
Nancy glanced at Marcia with narrowed eyes. “I thought you said you were here this morning,” Nancy said in a low voice.
“Well, I wasn’t at Joanna’s. That’s all you need to know,” Marcia said. Turning away from Nancy, she went into the shop.
Nancy watched as Marcia retrieved a package from under the counter and held it out to the woman. “Your bracelet is ready, Mrs. Ortiz.”
This case is getting more complicated every second, Nancy thought. Marcia had seemed genuinely surprised by the news of Joanna’s murder. Either she was a very good actress or she was telling the truth and hadn’t been there. But if she hadn’t been at the actress’s home, why wouldn’t she say where she had been?
After Mrs. Ortiz had left, Marcia came out from behind the counter. Instead of rejoining Nancy in the workroom, Marcia went to the front door. “I don’t feel like answering any more questions,” she said, her lips trembling. “I think you two should go now.”
Nancy was irritated now. “Marcia, you and Len asked for my help. But I can’t work for you if you don’t tell me everything,” she said.
Marcia let out a long sigh before looking at Nancy. “Please, I need some time to think this through,” she said wearily. “Could you come back later?” She must have seen the disapproval in Nancy’s face, because she quickly added, “Look, I didn’t kill Joanna, but I can’t talk about it now.”
Marcia opened the shop door and stood there. Nancy didn’t have any choice but to leave.
“I’ll be back later,” Nancy said to Marcia, but the door had already been shut, cutting off her words.
George rolled her eyes. “Talk about weird!” she said. “Well, we might as well see if Bess is done working.” George started across the street.
Nancy automatically checked for traffic on Ocean Avenue. She noticed Len about half a block down the hill at the corner, talking to a dark-haired woman who looked vaguely familiar. Nancy lingered on the sidewalk a moment, hoping the woman would turn so she could identify her.
Len was speaking intently to the woman. Finally he handed her what appeared to be a small envelope. The woman glanced around warily before she stuffed the envelope in her pocket.
Something about their furtive behavior aroused Nancy’s suspicions. Suddenly Len glanced up the hill, and his eyes landed on Nancy. He quickly looked away and said something to his companion. A moment later he moved briskly away, turning down a side street.
What was going on? Nancy wondered. Why did Len become so nervous when he saw her?
Nancy started toward the corner, hoping to catch up with Len. She had taken only a few steps when the woman Len had been talking to turned in Nancy’s direction. Nancy immediately recognized her.
It was Cy Baxter’s assistant!
Chapter
Nine
NANCY’S MIND RACED. What secretive business could those two have together? Could it somehow be related to Joanna Burton’s death?
Nancy recalled the smashed cuckoo clock. Maybe the assistant had sent it. Nancy took off down Ocean Avenue toward the woman.
“Nancy, where are you going?” George called from across the street.
Nancy motioned for George to come with her, then turned back to look at the dark-haired woman. She had disappeared!
Nancy ran to the corner. Shading her eyes with her hand, she glanced in both directions, then frowned. Neither Len nor Cy Baxter’s assistant was in sight.
“What’s going on?” George asked breathlessly, catching up with Nancy.
“When we came out of Marcia’s shop, Len was standing down here, talking to the woman we saw in Cy Baxter’s shop yesterday,” Nancy explained. “Len handed her a package, but when they saw me, they both hurried off.”
She crossed her arms over her chest, trying to fit the pieces of information she had together. “Do you think it’s possible that she and Len worked together to steal the diamonds from Joanna Burton’s necklace?” she wondered out loud. “Len could have taken the necklace from the safe without Marcia knowing about it. Then he could have given the necklace to the woman to make the switch. She has a
ccess to all the right tools at Cy Baxter’s store. And she must know where to get cubic zirconia.”
“It’s possible,” George agreed. “I mean, Len did say they’ve been working hard to get their businesses off the ground. Maybe he stole the diamonds because money is tight.” Then she frowned, running a hand through her short, dark curls. “But the diamond switch happened days ago. I still don’t get what Len could be handing over to that woman now.”
Nancy had been wondering the same thing. “It’s possible there was money in the envelope. Maybe Len gave her a cut after he sold the diamonds.”
Nancy absently fingered the hem of her blazer. “Let’s face it. Marcia, Len, Cy Baxter, and his assistant are all still suspects, and we’re no closer to figuring out who’s guilty than we were yesterday.”
George flicked a thumb back in the direction of the Café de Carmel. “Well, let’s give up for now and see if Bess is through working. Maybe we can get in some sightseeing,” she suggested. “After a break, maybe all of this will seem a little clearer.”
“Mmm,” Nancy said noncommittally. “I want to go back to Baxter’s jewelry store, though. I want to check out both Baxter and his assistant more.”
“After lunch,” George insisted, pulling Nancy toward Café de Carmel. “All we’ve been through this morning has made me hungry!”
When the two girls entered Ted’s restaurant, there was already a sizable lunch crowd. Libby, the waitress Bess had spoken to the day before, was rushing around taking orders and delivering food.
“I guess Bess is in the kitchen,” George commented.
Just then the door to the kitchen opened and Ted emerged, a welcoming smile on his face. As soon as he recognized Nancy and George his smile faded.
“Hi,” Nancy said brightly, ignoring his unfriendly expression.
“Uh, hi. Did you find anything out at Joanna Burton’s this morning?” he asked. His question was polite enough, but Nancy knew he wasn’t happy to see her and George.