Mr. Reigert thought. “A couple of months,” he replied. “No longer than that. But who would want to poison me? And why?”
“Who stands to inherit your estate?” Nancy asked in return. “That’s always the first question.”
“My wife, of course,” Mr. Reigert said unhappily. “That is, unless you find my daughter, in which case she’ll inherit everything.” He stared at Nancy. “You don’t think that my wife would try to—”
“I don’t think anything,” Nancy said matter-of-factly. “I’m not making accusations. I just don’t want to ignore any of the possibilities, that’s all. But I think it would be a very good idea for you to let a doctor examine you right away, so that we can learn what the cause of these attacks is. When we know more, we may be able to rule out poisoning.”
Mr. Reigert sighed. “Well, I—”
But he didn’t get to finish his sentence. “Darling!” Mrs. Reigert burst into the room, followed by Mark. “I heard you were taken sick again, and I came as soon as I could get away from that awful Mrs. Farraday. She just kept on talking and talking.” Mrs. Reigert saw Nancy sitting beside the bed and her face hardened. “What are you doing here?” she demanded angrily.
“Nancy helped me to my room,” Mr. Reigert said. His voice was cold. “I looked around for you, but you were busy with your admirers.” He turned his face away from her. “Don’t worry, Jonelle, I won’t interfere with your party or your conversation with Mrs. Farraday—or anyone else, for that matter. I don’t want to talk to you. Just go away and leave me alone.”
“Well!” Mrs. Reigert said, looking offended. “From the tone of your voice, you don’t appear to be too sick.” She whirled around and started out the door. “Come on, Mark. We’re obviously not needed here. Nancy Driscoll has everything very well in hand!”
Mark looked back hesitantly. “Are you sure we shouldn’t stick around to—?”
“I said, come on, Mark!” Mark turned and followed Mrs. Reigert.
After they had gone, Mr. Reigert lay still for a while, his eyes closed. Then he opened them and said, “You’re right, Nancy. The only way to find out whether poison is involved is for me to see a doctor. I’ll make an appointment with that young fellow in Rio Hondo tomorrow.” He grimaced. “I don’t like it, but I’ll do it.”
Nancy grinned. “I’m glad,” she said. If he wasn’t being poisoned, at least Mr. Reigert could be treated for his stomach ailment. She glanced down at her watch. “Why don’t you nap for a little while? Mr. Lawson isn’t due to arrive with the money for a couple of hours.”
Mr. Reigert nodded, and Nancy sat beside his bed while he fell into a regular sleep, breathing normally. As she watched him, she reviewed the central questions of the case.
There were the ransom notes, of course, although she still couldn’t be sure there had been an actual kidnapping. There were the attempts on her life. And now there were what might be attempts on Mr. Reigert’s life. And in the background was that puzzling business of the strange animals, first the deer, then the kangaroo. But how were all these different things tied together?
Nancy looked at her watch. It was nearly eleven o’clock. In a few minutes it would be time to go to her room and change into jeans and a shirt, and then saddle up the horses so she could meet Mr. Lawson.
There was a tentative knock on the door and it opened slightly. “Miss Driscoll?” a soft, hesitant voice asked.
Nancy whirled around. Angela was standing at the door. She looked worried, her dark eyes intense.
“How is the senor?” she asked. “I heard that he was taken ill again at the party. Will he be all right?”
“He’s asleep now,” Nancy said gently. “He’s feeling much better. And he’s agreed to see a doctor tomorrow.”
Angela closed her eyes and sagged in relief against the door frame. “Gracias a Dios,” she murmured. “Thank God.”
Nancy stared at her, puzzled. Then she took the girl by the arm and pulled her out into the hall, shutting the door behind them. “Angela,” she said urgently, “I am Mr. Reigert’s friend. I want to be your friend too. But I must know why you are so concerned about Mr. Reigert. You’ve got to tell me.”
Angela stepped backward. “I cannot tell you,” she said, pulling herself up straight.
“Why not?” asked Nancy. “I have the feeling that you want to help Mr. Reigert, just as I do. Perhaps, working together, we can help him.”
For a moment, Nancy had the feeling that Angela was on the brink of telling her something very important, something that might break the case wide open. Was it possible that she had some inside information about the kidnapping, or about Mr. Reigert’s mysterious illness?
“I cannot,” Angela said with a quiet dignity, her dark eyes intent on Nancy’s face. “But I thank you, Nancy Driscoll, for your kind regard for Senor Reigert. You are indeed his friend, in a place where he is surrounded by those who wish him harm.”
And with that surprising remark she walked away.
• • •
It was a few minutes before midnight when Nancy arrived on horseback at the arched gateway to Casa del Alamo, the reins of a spare horse tied to the saddle of her palomino. Mr. Lawson stepped out of his car, which he had hidden in a clump of trees out of sight of the main road. He was carrying a small green duffel bag.
“Is that the money?” Nancy asked.
“It’s the money,” Mr. Lawson replied shortly, handing it to Nancy. “I’ve been involved in some strange transactions in my time,” he added. “But this one takes the cake.”
Nancy smiled in spite of herself as Mr. Lawson mounted the other horse. Then they rode in silence down the deserted road, its dust turned to silver by the light of the full moon.
When they reached the house, they tied the horses in the dark shadows of a grove of tall pecan trees and walked quietly through the garden. It was nearly twelve-thirty, and the party was over. The house was silent and dark, except for a light in the kitchen. Mrs. Arguello or Angela must still be cleaning up, Nancy thought.
Their path led beside the house, under the closed casement windows of the bedrooms along the hall, and Nancy motioned for Mr. Lawson to be very quiet. Stealthily and with great caution, they crept along.
At one point, Nancy turned quickly, sure that she had heard something behind them, perhaps the scraping sound of a casement window swinging open. But it must have been her imagination, for the windows were all closed tightly and the moonlit gardens seemed to be deserted. Still, Nancy breathed a quiet sigh of relief when they reached the side door of the house and stepped inside.
Mr. Reigert was awake and waiting for them, dressed in robe and pajamas, with the curtains tightly drawn in his bedroom. Nancy shut the door as soon as Mr. Lawson had stepped into the room.
“You’ve brought the money, Sam?” Mr. Reigert asked, his voice very low.
“I’ve brought it, Bob,” Mr. Lawson answered testily. “But I was tempted to bring the sheriff too. If Billy McPhee weren’t such a bad joke of a sheriff, I would have for certain.”
He shook his head. “I tell you, Bob, I still don’t understand a bit of this. I know you can’t tell me why you need the money, but are you in some kind of trouble?”
Mr. Reigert frowned. “No questions, Sam,” he said. “I can’t tell you any more than I told you on the phone. Maybe later, but not now. All I want now is the money. After all, it is my money.”
“Well, here it is, blast it,” Mr. Lawson replied. He put the duffel bag on the bed and unzipped it. “I certainly hope you’ve got someplace safe to stow all this cash. A half million dollars is too much to leave lying loose around the house.”
“How’s this?” Mr. Reigert crossed the room to the paneled wall beside the window and pressed a hidden button. A portion of the wall swung outward, revealing a small safe. “Just installed last year,” he said. “The money should be as safe here as it is in your bank.” He grinned. “Maybe safer.”
“I hope so, for your sake.” Mr. Laws
on watched while Mr. Reigert counted the money, put it in the safe, and locked it. When the paneling swung back into place, it was so well hidden that Nancy couldn’t even see where the opening had been.
Mr. Lawson looked at Mr. Reigert. “That withdrawal wipes you out, you know, Bob,” he observed thoughtfully. “The money in that safe represents all your liquid assets. At least, all that you’ve been keeping in my bank.”
“I know,” Mr. Reigert replied.
“Well, I guess you understand what you’re doing then,” Mr. Lawson said. There was a puzzled look on his face, and he put his hand on Mr. Reigert’s arm. “Listen, Bob, you look exhausted. Are you sure you’re all right?”
Mr. Reigert passed his hand over his eyes. “It’s been a rough day,” he admitted wearily. “But I’ll feel better after I get a good night’s sleep.” He looked at Nancy. “And Nancy’s even talked me into letting that young whippersnapper of a doctor over in Rio Hondo take a look at me.”
Mr. Lawson chuckled. “Good for you. But you know the old prescription for a good night’s sleep. A glass of warm milk with a hefty shot of whiskey in it.” He hesitated. “If you need any help, you know you can call on me. I’ll be glad to do whatever I can.”
“Thanks, Sam,” Mr. Reigert said, going to the door with them. “But you’ve already helped enough—at least for now.”
“Well, then, I’ll be getting back to town,” Mr. Lawson replied. “Good luck, Bob. Whatever the problem is, I hope you get it solved.”
“So do I,” Mr. Reigert said fervently. “So do I.”
• • •
Thirty minutes later, Nancy was saying goodbye to the banker beside his car.
“I don’t know who you are, Nancy Driscoll,” Mr. Lawson said, “but it’s obvious that Bob Reigert trusts you. And I guess that’s good enough for me. There aren’t very many people in the world whom Bob thinks he can trust.” He got into his car. “Keep an eye on him and call me if you need me.”
“I will,” Nancy said. “And thanks.” She watched Mr. Lawson back the car onto the road and drive off. When the sound of the motor had faded away, Nancy turned and rode slowly down the lane, the riderless horse trotting beside her. On either side, the land fell away, still and lovely under the silver moon.
But Nancy hardly saw the moonlight or the dancing shadows that were stirred into life by the gentle midnight breeze. She was thinking about the next day. If Mr. Reigert received instructions from the kidnappers, she would insist on seeing the birthmark to prove that the girl really was Catarina.
While they were waiting for the kidnappers to make contact, Mr. Reigert could go to the doctor to see what could be discovered about his stomachaches. Until the truth was known, she would have to caution him to eat and drink only food that they could prove was not poisoned. And the next day she would have to contact Ned in Dallas. Maybe, by that time, he would have been able to learn something about Mrs. Reigert’s mysterious background.
Nancy was so involved in her planning that she was only vaguely aware of the rumbling sound that seemed to rise up out of the road, breaking the stillness of the night. When she finally heard it, she looked up. Just ahead the road curved, and there was nothing in sight, as far as she could see. Still, the rumbling grew louder. The palomino perked up her ears.
“What do you suppose—?” Nancy asked herself out loud. The mare began to prance nervously, and Nancy reined her in.
Then, suddenly, she saw a black shadow bearing down on her. A huge semitrailer, its lights turned off, had rounded the curve just ahead. It was barreling down the road straight at her!
Chapter
Twelve
FOR AN INSTANT Nancy panicked. The huge truck, like a giant, rumbling shadow in the moonlight, was bearing down on her so fast there was hardly time to think. But she recovered her wits, jabbed her heels hard into the flanks of the palomino, lashing her with the reins, and rode her as fast as she could into the dark ditch along the road.
And not a minute too soon. She had barely managed to get the horses off the road when the truck whizzed past her, its lights still out. She stared after it as it rounded another curve, hidden in a cloud of dust that hung silvery in the moonlight long after the truck had completely disappeared.
It had been a large semitrailer with slatted sides. Nancy wasn’t sure, but she thought it had looked like a stock truck. What was a stock truck doing out there at night with no lights on? Maybe it had something to do with the bull that Mr. Reigert had bought. But it didn’t seem logical that anyone would be delivering a bull so late at night.
The palomino gave a soft, plaintive nicker, as if to remind Nancy that it was time to go back to the stable, so Nancy let the horse have its head as she rode back onto the road. She decided that she would ask Mr. Reigert about the truck in the morning. Perhaps he would have some clue as to what might be going on.
The rest of the ride back to the ranch house was quiet, and Nancy was grateful. She’d had enough excitement for one night. The party, Mr. Reigert’s attack of stomach pains, Mr. Lawson’s arrival with the money, and the near-miss with the stock truck. It had certainly been an eventful evening!
When Nancy reached the corral, she unsaddled the horses and gave them a quick brushing down. It was nearly two o’clock, and Nancy was bone weary. Not only that, but her cowboy boots were pinching her feet as well.
She went into the house and walked down the hall toward her bedroom, trying not to make any noise. But as she walked past Mr. Reigert’s room, she heard what sounded like the casement window banging shut. When she and Mr. Lawson had left, the window had been closed and the heavy draperies pulled together. Mr. Reigert had said he was very tired and was planning to go right back to bed.
Maybe he had opened the window, and it was swinging in the wind. But there was only a slight breeze, hardly enough to slam the window. Perhaps he had just now gotten up and opened the window. If so, Nancy wanted to ask him about the truck. She was eager to start piecing together the strange events of the last few days.
Hesitantly, Nancy knocked at the door. She could hear Mr. Reigert’s bed creak as if he had turned over. But if Mr. Reigert were still in bed, who had banged the window? Nancy reached for the knob and found that it turned easily. She stepped into the room.
“Mr. Reigert,” she whispered. “It’s Nancy. Is everything all right?” She looked toward the window. The breeze was stirring the heavy drapes.
A shapeless mass moved on the bed. “Nancy?” Mr. Reigert sat up. “What are you doing here?” he demanded, his voice slurred with sleep.
“I was walking past your door,” Nancy explained, “and I heard a noise. It sounded like your window banging shut. So I came in.”
“Nonsense.” Mr. Reigert leaned over and fumbled to turn on the small bedside lamp. A circle of golden light spilled across the bed, and Nancy noticed an empty glass on the bedside table. It looked as if it had held milk. “That window has been locked all day,” he added, reaching for his robe. “And I locked my door before I went to bed! I always do.”
“Then why are the drapes blowing?” Nancy stepped toward the window. “The window is open!” she reported excitedly. “And your door was unlocked!”
“But how?” Mr. Reigert asked blankly. “I was sure . . . The money! Could the money have been—?” He stumbled to the hidden button on the wall and pushed it. The paneling swung out silently, and Mr. Reigert turned the combination lock on the safe door while Nancy watched. After a moment the door opened and Mr. Reigert reached inside.
“Oh, no,” he moaned.
“What’s the matter?” Nancy asked.
“The money’s gone!” Mr. Reigert buried his face in his hands. “It’s gone! I can’t pay the ransom!”
Nancy pushed Mr. Reigert aside and peered into the safe. It was empty! The money had been stolen!
“What can I do? What can I do?” Mr. Reigert slumped into the chair beside the window, his chin resting on his chest, eyes closed. His face suddenly looked pale and drawn
.
Nancy knelt on the floor beside him. “Mr. Reigert,” she said urgently, “are you feeling well enough to talk? I need to ask you some questions.”
“I’ll be all right in a few minutes,” he said, not opening his eyes. “Ask me what you have to.”
“What happened after Mr. Lawson and I left this evening? Did you go straight to bed?”
Mr. Reigert put his hand to his forehead and began to rub his eyes. “I—I went to the kitchen,” he said slowly. “To get a glass of milk. I put some whiskey into it to help me sleep. Then I came back into the room, locked the door, and went to bed.”
“Did you see anyone or talk to anyone?”
“Only Mrs. Reigert,” Mr. Reigert responded. She came into the kitchen just as I was leaving.”
“Did you talk with her?”
“She asked me what I was doing up so late, and how I was feeling. I told her I was getting something to help me sleep and that I felt fine. That’s all we said.” He laughed bitterly. “I suppose you’ve gathered that we don’t have much to say to each other.”
“And you didn’t see anyone else?” Nancy persisted.
Mr. Reigert shook his head, looking very old and weary. “I came back to my room, locked the door, drank the milk, and went to bed.” He looked up suddenly. “But if the door was locked, how did you get in?”
“Someone must have come in before I did,” Nancy replied. “Who else has a key to your room? More important, who else knows the combination to the safe? Whoever took the money probably came in through the door, opened the safe, and then decided to go out by the window to avoid being seen in the hallway.”
“But who?”
“Who knows about the safe?”
“It wasn’t exactly a secret,” Mr. Reigert said. He rested his head in his hand. “I suppose the whole household knew that I was having it built. But the combination—that’s a secret. Nobody knows it but me.”
“Is it written down anywhere?”