Martika stopped at a landing halfway down and leaned against the rail. The breeze rustled her coal black hair.
“Tell me about Derek,” Nancy said. “I know you don’t think it’s him, but still . . .”
“Derek? He’s a gambler who never wins. I’ve been bailing him out ever since our father died. We lost our mother when Derek was just a baby, and Dad raised us. Things were hard. I don’t know how much you know about my past.”
“Nothing at all,” Nancy admitted. “I don’t read celebrity magazines much. That’s Bess’s department.”
“I see. Well, at one time my dad was a big Wall Street broker. He and his brother owned their own brokerage firm. But then one day my uncle disappeared, taking all the firm’s assets with him. Of course the brokerage house failed. My father made good on all the claims against it and went broke in the process. He never spoke about it when we were growing up, but I dug around and found out. We were never allowed to mention my uncle around our house.”
“And he changed your family name from Sawin to Sawyer?” Nancy asked.
Martika was taken aback. “How did you know that?”
“Christina,” Nancy told her.
Martika frowned. “That woman is always spreading dirt about me,” she complained.
“Where did your uncle go?” Nancy asked, getting back to the subject.
“I have no idea,” Martika said. “Out of the country, I presume. In any case, we were poor from then on. I started modeling to support us, and Derek started sponging off me. Since Dad died a couple of years ago, Derek’s gone to pot. Oh, he looks good, but he can’t hold down a job. He always comes to me for money, and I always give it to him. But I told him last week the party was over, that he’d have to earn his keep by helping me with Cloud Nine.”
“I see,” Nancy said. “Did you know he was stealing company checks?”
Martika gave Nancy a startled look, which immediately turned to one of admiration. “You’re very good, Nancy. Carson was right. I’m glad I asked you to come here.”
Then she stared out at the water and sighed. “Yes, I know Derek has been writing checks and forging my name. It’s not the sort of thing a person can get away with for very long. I’ve been replacing the amounts from my own savings. But as I said, I’ve told him it’s got to stop. He’s on the payroll now, and he’s going to have to live on his salary. Anyway, I still don’t think he’d sabotage me, since I supply him with money.”
“I guess so,” Nancy agreed, as they continued on down the steps. There was no one else on the beach. After they stepped off the stairs, Martika kicked off her sandals, and Nancy did the same. The sand felt powdery fine between her toes, and the air was tangy with salt. The full moon provided plenty of light and turned the waves silver.
“When I had the idea for this place,” Martika said, “nobody believed I could bring it off. ‘You’ll never make it,’ they said.” She swung around gracefully and spread her arms out wide. “I’ll show them all, though. This place is only the beginning for me. A few years from now I’ll be the owner of a whole network of resorts all over the world.” She laughed and spun around joyfully. The moonlight made her lovely face glow.
Without warning the model gasped and stopped dead in her tracks about five feet in front of Nancy.
“Something just buzzed by me!” she cried. “Did you feel it?”
“No,” Nancy said, surprised. “What was it?”
“I don’t know,” Martika replied. She was searching all around her. “A bat, maybe.”
“Are you sure?” Nancy asked. “I didn’t hear anything.”
“It whooshed right by me,” Martika insisted. “How strange.”
Nancy reached into her pocket and took out the flashlight she always carried with her. Shining it at Martika, she took hold of the model’s wide sleeve. There was a neat round hole on the inner side, between the elbow and the shoulder.
Nancy put a finger through it. “Was this hole here before?” she asked Martika.
Martika peered down at it. “Why, no,” she said. “But that’s right where I felt the whooshing go by. While my arms were over my head, like this.”
Nancy suddenly grabbed Martika by the hand and pulled her away from the water to a spot sheltered by the cliff.
“That hole was not made by a bat, Martika,” she said. “It was made by a bullet. Someone just took a shot at you!”
Chapter
Six
A GUNSHOT?” MARTIKA repeated, clutching Nancy’s hand. “Are you sure?”
“Pretty sure,” Nancy said. “There are two holes in your sleeve, see? An entry hole and an exit hole. Both very neat.”
“But I didn’t hear anything, Nancy—only a light whizzing noise.” The model’s voice had taken on a pleading quality.
“The gun probably had a silencer on it,” Nancy explained.
Martika’s eyes widened and her expression froze, registering her fear.
Nancy did her best to sound soothing, even though she knew that the situation didn’t warrant it. “It’s okay, Martika. You’re all right. But I do need to figure out where the shot could have been fired from.” Leaving Martika in the shelter of the cliff, Nancy walked toward the water.
“Nancy, don’t!” Martika called out anxiously. “What if the person’s still up there?”
“I don’t think a sniper would stay around once we ducked out of view,” Nancy replied, gazing up toward the top of the cliff. “In fact, he or she must have run off after taking the first shot.”
“Why do you say that?” Martika asked.
“Because we kept standing out there for a minute before we realized what had happened,” Nancy reasoned. “A shooter could have gotten off a second shot easily.”
Scanning the railing above, Nancy caught sight of the gazebo overlooking the far end of the beach. “There,” she said. “That gazebo would have been the perfect spot. Come on, let’s go check it out,” she said, heading for the far set of steps. “Martika, does anyone know you take walks down here at night?”
“Everyone on the staff,” Martika said, following Nancy. “They have to know where to find me if I’m needed.”
“That includes Kurt and Derek,” Nancy pointed out. “And I suppose Christina could have found out, too.”
After climbing the steps to the top of the cliff, they entered the gazebo, which was empty. Nancy shone her flashlight beam along the ground. It didn’t take her long to find what she was searching for. “I was right,” she said, picking something up and showing it to Martika.
“What is it?” Martika asked.
“A shell,” Nancy told her. “From a small pistol, I’d guess.” Nancy pocketed the shell and peeked back down at the beach. The view was unobstructed, and the full moon shone brightly. The shot would have been relatively easy for anyone with experience in marksmanship. Martika had been extremely lucky. Nancy wondered if she’d be so lucky the next time.
Martika shuddered. “What do we do now, Nancy?”
“We go back inside,” Nancy said, meeting her gaze squarely. “And you lock yourself in your suite until the police get here.”
At that, something snapped in Martika. “Absolutely not. Nancy, I told you. If I call the police I’ll be sabotaging Cloud Nine!” There was an hysterical edge to her voice.
Nancy touched her shoulder gently. Keeping her tone calm but serious, she said, “Whoever did this means business, Martika. I know you don’t want to alarm your guests, but you can’t risk your life, either.”
“There’s got to be another way,” Martika insisted. “Earlier you suggested I get one of the security staff to be with me at all times. How about if we do that? I know I refused before, but it’s a better alternative than calling in the police.”
“It won’t help against bullets,” Nancy said, shaking her head.
“I know just the person for the job,” Martika went on. “And I’ll be careful, I promise, Nancy.” The model hugged herself. “I’ve just got to keep things c
alm. Everything’s riding on it. Please try to understand.”
“All right,” Nancy said at last, knowing that there was little she could do in the face of Martika’s resistance. “But I want you to lock yourself in your suite for the night.”
“I will, definitely,” Martika said with a wan smile. “I guess I am feeling a little shaky.” She laughed nervously and squeezed Nancy’s hand. “I feel as though you saved my life,” she whispered, her eyes filling with tears.
“Come on,” Nancy said. “Let’s get you back inside.” She led Martika into her suite, searched it quickly, then said good night and headed up to her room.
Bess and George were already asleep, though they’d left the light on in the bathroom for Nancy to see by. She suddenly felt exhausted—it had been a long day. She got ready for bed quickly, knowing that she’d need to be rested and alert the next day. While everyone else at Cloud Nine relaxed, she’d be on the job.
• • •
When Nancy woke up the next morning, the light was streaming in through the windows. Bess and George’s beds were empty, though she found a note on the bureau telling her to meet them at breakfast.
She showered and dressed in under fifteen minutes, putting her bathing suit on under her shorts and tank top. Then she headed down to the patio, where breakfast was being served. She spotted her friends at a table shaded by a pink-and white-striped umbrella. They had plates of fresh fruit and muffins in front of them and were filling out their program cards.
“Bess, all these workouts—step class, yoga, high- and low-impact aerobics!” Nancy said, once she’d taken a seat. “Are you sure this is a good idea?”
Bess rolled her eyes. “I’m not a wimp. I can handle it.”
Nancy grinned. “Whatever you say.” Turning to George, she asked, “What about you? What have you got planned?”
“I have tennis with Kurt, a shiatsu massage, a run on the par course, and maybe water aerobics.” George’s eyes twinkled. “I can’t wait,” she said. “What a fantastic day! How about you, Nan?”
Nancy told her friends what had happened on the beach the night before. “So I’m not going to fill out a program card. I’m just going to wander around and talk to people.”
“Let me know if you need any help,” George offered.
“I will,” Nancy replied. “We’ll talk again at lunch. For now I just want to scout things out.”
Soon after, the girls went their separate ways. Nancy’s first stop was the mineral baths outside the beauty center, where she found Christina Adams soaking herself in a steaming pool shaped like a large U, entertaining Helen MacArthur, Morgana Ricci, Sadie Thomas, and Mrs. Smythe with gossip about Martika. Nancy took off her shorts and top, grabbed a fluffy white towel, and got into the pool with them. “Ahhh,” she said as she adjusted to the steaming, sulfurous water. “This is relaxing.”
“Isn’t it?” Christina agreed. “Everyone, this is Nancy Drew. I met her last night at dinner. She says she’s here as a guest—but I happen to know she’s a detective.”
Everyone in the pool turned to Nancy with renewed interest. The Savoir Faire editor’s face was covered with a cosmetic mask, but Nancy could tell that she was particularly intrigued.
“Who told you that?” Nancy asked casually.
“Oh,” Christina said airily, “a little bird on the staff.” She laughed, then began to wheedle. “Come on, Nancy, tell us. What are you really here for?”
Nancy smiled tensely. “I do some detective work back home in River Heights,” she said. “But I’m at Cloud Nine for the same reason everyone else is.”
“Christina, where are your manners?” Morgana Ricci asked. “Can’t you see the girl doesn’t want to talk about it?” The heiress splashed a little water on her face. “Just go on with what you were saying before she got here.”
“Well,” Christina said, “I understand Martika refused to put a penny of her own money into this place,” Christina said. “It’s all Preston Winchell’s. That Martika’s a pretty smart cookie. Smarter than I thought, anyway. Never lose your own money, I always say.”
Everyone laughed except Nancy and Helen MacArthur. The editor listened carefully, though, and Nancy guessed that she was making mental notes. If Christina kept bad-mouthing Martika around Helen, it might result in some negative press for Cloud Nine.
“I also understand that Martika nearly had to put off the opening because Preston Winchell was so upset about cost overruns,” Christina went on.
“Christina, dear,” said Sadie Thomas, with a wicked grin, “how do you dig up such juicy dirt?”
“I never dig,” Christina returned, waving a diamond-ringed hand. “I just keep my ears open, and I hear things.”
Nancy couldn’t help shaking her head. Christina Adams may or may not be the person behind all the incidents, Nancy thought, but she is certainly doing her best to spoil the opening of Cloud Nine.
“You know,” Nancy said, breaking into the conversation. “I wanted to ask you about your own health spas, Christina. I looked for you last night around ten but couldn’t find you.”
“Oh, we were all in Morgana’s suite, weren’t we, Morgana?” Christina asked.
“Yes,” Morgana said. “We’ve been inseparable since Christina got here. Isn’t that right, Helen?”
“Except for when Christina went to her room to get the brochure for her new spa in Mexico,” the editor said idly. She turned to Christina. “Remember, dear? I’m so glad you found it, even if it did take a little while. The Cozumel site appears to be glorious.”
Nancy’s ears perked up. “How long would you say you were gone?” she asked Christina.
“My, my,” the spa queen replied. “You’re certainly sounding very detectivelike. Why do you want to know where I was last night?”
Nancy lifted her hair off her shoulders. “Oh, I just wondered. I knocked at your door around ten, but there was no answer,” she lied.
“Well,” Christina said, reddening, “you must have just missed me. At any rate, what was it you wanted to ask me?”
“Oh, lots of things,” Nancy said. “But they’ll wait. Right now, I’ve got to find Derek. Have any of you seen him?”
No one had. “By the way,” Nancy said as she got out of the pool, toweled off, and slipped her tank top over her head, “was Kurt Yeager with you all yesterday after Christina arrived?”
“For about five minutes or so,” Helen MacArthur said. She looked at Nancy sharply. “Nancy, what’s going on? You are doing some investigating. I can tell.”
“No, not really,” Nancy protested. “I was searching for him, too.” She smiled cryptically, said goodbye, and strolled out of the mineral bath area. She’d gotten the information she needed, but now Helen MacArthur and Christina clearly suspected she was investigating. Nancy would have to be more discreet from now on.
Nancy wandered past the tennis courts, where she saw Kurt playing with a guest. She found Derek in one of the massage rooms at the beauty center. A woman was kneading the muscles in his shoulders.
“Hello, there,” Derek said when Nancy poked her head around the doorway. “Come on in! Ooooh, right there,” he instructed the masseuse, as she found a tight spot in his neck.
“Working hard this morning, I see,” Nancy commented as she sat down in a nearby chair.
“Always,” Derek replied dryly. “Nancy, right? You’re the one who’s friends with Bess. Did she tell you we’re going dancing tonight?”
“She did,” Nancy said, giving him a knowing smile. “In fact,” she went on, ad-libbing, “we went looking for you last night, around ten. We couldn’t find you.”
“That’s too bad,” Derek said. “Did you check the dance club? I’m there every evening. I like to think of it as my little domain. Right, Sheila?”
The masseuse nodded and continued working on Derek. “I love to dance,” she explained with a little smile.
“Too bad you and Bess didn’t find us. There’s no such thing as too much beauty i
n this world,” Derek said.
Nancy had to keep herself from rolling her eyes. “But we did try the dance club,” she fibbed. “Are you sure you were there the whole evening?”
“You did leave for a while, remember?” Sheila reminded Derek. “You said you had to talk to Martika. You were gone a long time. I remember I wondered what happened to you.”
“Oh, yes. That’s right,” Derek said. “Thanks for reminding me, Sheila.” He acted anything but grateful.
“I also wanted to ask you about the key to Martika’s suite,” Nancy went on. “She said you have one. Somebody got in there yesterday afternoon and fooled with her boa’s cage.”
“Really?” Derek asked. “That’s pretty funny. To tell you the truth, I did misplace my key yesterday. I could have sworn I had it on my desk, but then when I checked it was gone.”
Nancy remembered that Derek had had to pick the lock of Martika’s suite when he went in to get the check, so maybe he was telling the truth about the key. “Well, see you later,” Nancy said, getting up to go. “Don’t work too hard.”
“I won’t,” Derek called after her.
So, Nancy thought as she went back outside. Suspect number two had no better alibi than suspect number one.
Nancy took the long way back to the main building, around the tennis courts. She chose a path that ran near the drop-off to the shore, then turned toward the herb garden. The place was deserted, just as it had been the day before.
She paused for a minute by the entryway. Just then she heard a rustling behind her. Before she could swing around, she felt a powerful arm circle her neck from behind!
A hand covered her mouth, and Nancy was dragged backward into the garden. As hard as she kicked and twisted, she was unable to break free.
Then an angry voice whispered in her ear, “All right, Miss Detective. Suppose you tell me exactly what’s going on.”
Chapter
Seven
THE ARMS TWIRLED her around and then let go of her. Nancy found herself staring into the fierce eyes of Kurt Yeager. Taking a deep breath and facing him squarely, Nancy said, “You have a real knack for approaching people. Has anyone ever told you that?”