wondering if Georgina Trevor and Gloria Trevellyan
are one and the same.”
Annabel's jaw dropped. “Georgina? Gloria?” she
said, aghast. “What makes you think so?”
“Well, this is a small thing and maybe a coincidence,
but the earring has a morning glory on it, which fits
with Gloria's nickname,” Nancy explained. “Also,
Georgina is probably in her early to mid-forties—about
twelve years older than you. And it makes sense that
the villain would be familiar with this place—she, or
he, would have an easier time organizing the pranks.”
“Yes, like knowing about the dumbwaiter in the
pantry that no one ever uses,” Annabel said. “I'll bet
that's where she hid Nigel's meat loaf until she had a
chance to switch it with his real order.”
Nancy shot Annabel a smile. “Also, come to think of
it, you and Georgina look a little alike,” she said
carefully. “The red hair and small noses.”
“Dear me,” Annabel said, looking alarmed.
Just then, something outside the window caught
Nancy's eye. It was Georgina—sneaking through some
underbrush on the far side of the lawn and heading
toward the cliff above the beach. Moments later she
disappeared down the cliffside stairs.
Nancy jumped up. “Annabel, I just saw Georgina.
She's on her way to the beach.”
Annabel swiveled around in her chair to look
outside. “What in the world is she up to?”
“There's no telling,” Nancy said. “She might be
sneaking down there to do something to the boats for
the party later. She was acting pretty suspicious—
sneaking through the underbrush instead of walking
across the lawn. She definitely didn't want to be seen.”
“Nancy, really, I'd be happier if we called the
police,” Annabel said. Her hand shook as she picked up
the phone.
“Not yet,” Nancy said. “Let me follow Georgina first.
As I said, if I can catch her in the act, we'll have proof
that she's the person we're looking for.”
Annabel looked at Nancy hesitantly. “Okay, Nancy,”
she said, “but please be careful. If Georgina's capable
of sending guests into quicksand and beehives, she's
obviously dangerous. I don't like the idea of your being
alone with her. In fact, I'd like to find Hugh to back
you up.”
“Okay,” Nancy said, “but I'm heading down to the
beach this minute. If I don't hurry, I might miss her in
action.”
Nancy cut through the dining room and out the
kitchen door. She raced across the lawn toward the
channel, skimming over the grass like a deer. At the top
of the stairs, she paused, looking down at the sea. Even
though the day was clear, the winds had picked up
since morning. Waves swelled on the choppy water.
Rushing down the stairs, Nancy scanned the beach
for Georgina. She was nowhere in sight. A sudden gust
of wind swirled up sand, stinging Nancy's eyes. She
shielded her face in the crook of her arm.
The breeze died for a moment, and Nancy looked
up. Four rowboats were pulled up on the beach near a
large rock, all set for the exploration party. Nancy
rushed over and glanced inside them. No Georgina.
She climbed into the nearest boat, curious to see if
she could find any evidence of sabotage. Hunching
over, she inspected the hull.
The rowboat suddenly lurched, and Nancy stumbled
backward and landed on the bottom of the boat. But
before she could figure out what was going on, the
rowboat started to slide across the sand toward the sea!
Nancy lay on her back, thrown off balance by the
jerky movements of the boat as the waves slapped
against it. She struggled up onto her elbows.
Peering over the stern of the boat was Georgina, her
face full of grim determination. “Good riddance to you,
Nancy Drew,” Georgina cackled as she gave the boat
one final push. “You're going out to sea now, and no
one will be the wiser!”
The strong current took hold of the boat, and
Georgina waded back toward shore. As the choppy
waters buffeted it, Nancy sat up, grabbing for the oars.
Her heart sank. The oars that Annabel and Hugh
had attached earlier were gone! Georgina must have
taken them, Nancy realized. She sat up helplessly in
the boat as the current swept it out to sea.
15. Strong Swimmers
Nancy glanced around the boat. Other than a bailing
bucket and a rope coiled in the prow, it was empty.
She peered out to sea. Nothing but the horizon lay
ahead, but on her right was a series of rocks that led
into shore. Once more, her gaze darted to the rope.
Her mind clicked away.
If I can loop the rope onto one of those rocks, she
thought, then I can use the other rocks as stepping-
stones to shore. She bit her lip. Her idea was a long
shot, she realized. The waves were rocking the boat
like crazy; even if her aim was good enough to lasso a
rock, the rope might not hold on to its slippery surface.
What other choice did she have? She picked up the
rope and quickly knotted a loop. The rocks were
getting closer—close enough for the rope to reach
them, she judged.
Nancy waved the rope around in the air to get the
feel of it, like a cowboy preparing to lasso a steer.
Then, without wasting another moment, she hurled it
toward the nearest rock.
The rope missed, falling in a limp circle in the
churning water. Adrenaline pumped through her as she
drew it in. The current was pushing the boat away from
the rocks. If she didn't catch the rock this time, she
wouldn't get another chance.
Nancy gritted her teeth, trying to estimate the
distance between the boat and the rock. Once more,
she took aim. Whirling the rope in a circle above her,
she fixed her gaze on the jagged point of the rock.
She threw the rope, holding her breath as it sailed
through the air. To her amazement, it caught the rock,
looping around its middle. She yanked it tight. For one
heart-stopping moment, the rope slipped up the rock
toward the top. Her jaw clenched. Was it going to
hold? she wondered.
Nancy let the rope slacken for a moment, then
carefully tugged it. This time, she felt a resistance, as if
she had just caught a fish. She let out a long breath of
relief. She'd hooked the rock!
Hand over hand, Nancy hauled the boat closer to
the rock. Waves bashed the hull as it collided with the
huge boulder.
Leaning into the rock, she tightened the rope, doing
her best to keep steady. If she could just pull herself
onto it without getting smashed by the waves, she
thought.
Nancy threw her arms around the rock. Hugging it
for dear life, she dropped the rope and clambered out
of the boat. Instantly,
the current swept the boat away.
Waves crashed around her legs as she struggled to
lift herself higher onto the rock. Barnacles tore at her
hands. She sneaked a look down at the swirling surf. If
she let go of the rock now, she'd be dashed against it—
or else sucked out to sea.
With an enormous effort of will, Nancy strained to
lift herself onto the rock. Her sneakers gained a
toehold against the barnacles, and a moment later, she
was up. Doubled over, she gasped for breath as she
stood precariously on top of the boulder.
Something moved ahead of her. Nancy jolted
upright, just in time to see Georgina standing in a row
boat, brandishing an oar. Aiming at Nancy's shoulders,
Georgina made a wicked swipe through the air.
Nancy ducked in the nick of time, and the oar
passed harmlessly over her head. She's trying to knock
me back into the water! Nancy realized. Nancy raised
her head. “Gloria Trevellyan!” she cried, standing up
straight and fixing Gloria with a penetrating stare. “Put
down your oar!”
Gloria froze. Her colorless eyes were pinpricks of
hatred as she glared at Nancy.
“You've been trying to drive the Petersons out of
business to benefit the Singhs,” Nancy declared. “I'm
guessing they'll give you a share of the profits if they
develop the land—or something like that. I bet they
realized you'd be happy to help them because you're
jealous that Annabel owns your parents' estate. I'm
onto your game, Gloria, so you might as well give up
now.”
For a split second Gloria stared at Nancy. Then she
burst into high-pitched peals of laughter—an eerie,
hollow sound half-muffled by the wind. “The Singhs
had nothing to do with my plot,” she proclaimed. “I
only hoped they'd want Moorsea badly enough to help
me out, but no such luck.”
Nancy hesitated, surprised. “So you asked them for
help with your plan, instead of the other way around?”
“Yes, and they refused me,” Gloria told her. “After
you caught me in the kitchen last night, I worried that
you might begin to suspect me. So this morning, I went
to them for help.”
Nancy stared at Gloria. What could her motive be in
sabotaging Moorsea Manor if the Singhs weren't
paying her? she wondered. Was it simply her
resentment that Annabel owned it? Gloria's pranks
seemed like a great deal of trouble and risk to make up
only for that reason.
“I can't believe you went to all this trouble just to get
revenge on Annabel for owning the place,” Nancy said.
“I'm tired of all this talk,” Gloria sputtered. “I'm
afraid you'll never get to know my full story.” Once
more Gloria raised her oar, her boat teetering slightly.
With an evil gleam in her eye, she lowered her oar
again.
“Gloria,” Nancy began, her shoulders squared.
“Annabel is onto you. She went to alert the police. It's
just a matter of minutes before you'll be arrested.”
“Liar! You're bluffing just to save your skin,” Gloria
cried.
“It's the truth,” Nancy said evenly. “The police are
on their way. So far, you haven't hurt anyone seriously,
Gloria, so the courts might be lenient with you. You
don't want to make things worse for yourself.”
“You think you're so smart, Nancy Drew,” Gloria
spat out. “Well, here's what I think of you and your
clever detective work.” With a sudden whoosh, she
lifted her oar and swiped it at Nancy.
Nancy ducked—a moment too late. With a violent
whack, the oar butted Nancy's shoulder, knocking her
into the sea.
Waves lashed at Nancy, buffeting her mercilessly
against the rock. She struggled to keep her head above
the waves. Choking on a mouthful of seawater, she
reached for the rock, desperately trying to get a grip on
its slippery surface.
But the current was too strong. No matter how hard
she tried to hold on to the rock, the tide swept her
farther and farther out. Even though Nancy was a
strong swimmer, she knew that in minutes she'd be in
the open channel with the land receding from view.
Her body might as well have been a piece of seaweed
or driftwood for all the control she had in the powerful
surf.
More seawater poured down her throat as she
fought to stay afloat. Coughing, she flailed with her
arms—and suddenly touched something firm. She
glanced to the right. A pair of black eyes stared up at
her from under a wet mop of hair. Maisie!
Making loud snuffling noises, Maisie swam up next
to Nancy. Nancy flung her arms around the dog,
hoping she'd be strong enough to help her swim.
With the waves slapping against their faces, Maisie
paddled through the churning sea, buoying Nancy up
the whole way back to shore.
Nancy straggled up on the beach. Water poured off
her T-shirt and shorts. Maisie shook herself, sending
drops of water flying. Out of the corner of her eye,
Nancy saw Gloria jumping onto the beach from her
boat.
Annabel, Hugh, and George were rushing down the
wooden stairs. “Hold it right there, Gloria!” Hugh
shouted. “The police are on their way.”
Gloria froze.
“The game is up, Gloria,” Annabel said, staring at
her sister as if she were seeing her for the first time.
She shook her head. “What ever made you do this?”
she breathed.
“As if you'd have to ask,” Gloria hissed.
Annabel sighed. “You must have discovered the
terms of our parents' wills.”
“That's right—through public access to the
documents,” Gloria replied. “I learned that they left
you everything.”
“Not exactly,” Annabel countered. “First of all, they
thought you were dead—they hadn't heard from you
for over twenty years. Naturally, they left Moorsea
Manor to me.”
“Naturally!” Gloria snapped.
Annabel went on. “But they stipulated that if I ever
sold Moorsea and you showed up within a year after
the sale, then you and I would split the money. They
knew you could find out the terms of the will easily
enough. Since you hadn't even bothered to tell them
whether you were alive or dead, I'd say their will was
pretty generous to you.”
“Generous!” Gloria said. “That's what you think.
What if you had never sold Moorsea? I would have
been left out in the cold, with nothing.”
“But I would have let you live at Moorsea with me. I
don't see it as mine—I see it as belonging to all the
Trevellyans. Dad wanted to keep Moorsea in the
family. He would have been thrilled to have both of us
living here.”
Gloria sneered. “How sweet of you to offer.”
“But why plan an elaborate sabotage th
at hurt
people?” Annabel went on in a pained voice. “Why
didn't you just come to me and tell me who you were?
It's because you never cared about Moorsea anyway.
All you ever wanted was the money. You were trying to
bankrupt my business so I'd be forced to sell.”
“Speaking of the sabotage,” George cut in, “how did
you manage to substitute your fake clues for Annabel's
clues at the treasure hunt?”
“That was easy,” Gloria said, chortling at the
memory. “I knew that Annabel had hidden her clues a
few hours before the hunt began, and she kept
everyone's first clue in the top drawer of the dining
room sideboard—I watched her put them there. So I
followed a few of the leads and substituted some of my
own clues. Creative, weren't they?”
“Works of art,” George said dryly.
“What about the danger sign that had been on the
gate to the beehives?” Nancy asked. “What'd you do
with that?”
“I tore it off and stuck it under a nearby rock,”
Gloria told her. “And just in case you're still
wondering, it was / who threw the bronze horse from
the upstairs window before ducking back into my
room.” She paused, scowling. “I had to scoot under my
bed when Annabel rudely burst in.
“And what about the snake?” Nancy asked. “Is he
some sort of pet?”
“No, only a lucky find. I was strolling in the garden
early this morning and noticed him curled up inside an
empty watering can.” Gloria wrinkled her nose. “But I
had to stay in my room with that creature all morning
till I got a chance to plant him in Malcolm's sink.”
Just then four police officers ran down the wooden
stairs, brandishing wooden clubs.
“You can put your clubs away, gentlemen,” Gloria
said, raising her arms in surrender. “My sister here has
won her war.” Then she offered each arm to an officer
as if they were escorts at a ball and allowed them to
lead her quietly away.
There was a long moment of silence. Overhead, a
gull cried. Waves slapped against the wet sand. Taking
a deep breath, Annabel murmured, “Even though
Gloria's going to jail and won't be plaguing me at
Moorsea, my life will never be the same. I have a sister
now.”
“Yes,” Nancy said. “In one morning, your whole life
has changed.”
Once more everyone was silent, taking stock of the