Marva’s original thought still offered the strongest motive: that someone was out to destroy the club’s reputation, probably to get Marva to sell out. The obvious people who came to mind were Marva’s fiance, Gil, and Roger Coleman.
Although Nancy found the wealthy tycoon charming and friendly, he did have a reputation for being ruthless in business. And even though he’d just arrived that afternoon, he could easily have had someone working for him.
Could that someone be Gil? There could be a tie-in between the two men. Gil had been a real estate broker before coming to work for Marva. He’d dealt with expensive properties, and Roger Coleman’s occupation was buying up expensive properties.
Gil had access to the cabins and other areas of the club. That was important. Also, he would have known about such inside details as the broken freezer door.
There had to be something she was missing. Some connection.
I’d better hurry up and find out what it is, Nancy thought. Because whoever started out only making threats was now taking serious risks.
“Risks that are putting your own life in danger, Nancy Drew,” she said to herself.
There’d been two attempts on her life already. The next one could very well prove fatal.
Chapter
Eleven
NANCY PAUSED in front of the bedroom mirror for a last-minute check. Partly to take her mind off the frustrations of the case, she’d put on one of her favorite outfits—a full flowered skirt teamed with a pale green scoop-neck top. The green set off the red-gold highlights in her hair.
Satisfied, she slipped her feet into high-heeled sandals, picked up her light cotton sweater from the bed and left the cabin.
Dinner was just being served when Nancy entered the dining room. She slid into her chair as a waiter was putting an iced fruit cup at her place. Nancy smiled hello at Bess and George and at the other five guests at their table.
The normally casual dining room had been transformed into a romantic fantasyland. Blue linen cloths covered the otherwise utilitarian pine tables, and arrangements of wildflowers and baby’s breath sat in the center of each table.
“Great, isn’t it?” Bess said happily. “And did you notice? There’s going to be a live band.” She nodded in the direction of the French doors that ran the length of the dining room and overlooked the pool and veranda.
Nancy turned to look and saw two young men in matching silver jackets checking the sound system, while another band member removed a guitar from its case. “Hope they’re good,” she commented, when a movement in the shadows on the veranda caught her eyes.
It was Roger Coleman, talking animatedly with Al Hunt. Why was Coleman still here? Nancy wondered. Considering the cool reception he’d received from Marva that afternoon, he should have been back in Los Angeles by now. Also, what was he doing having an engrossing conversation with the rock-climbing instructor?
Intrigued, Nancy shoved her chair back and stood up. “I see something I want to check out. Be right back,” she said in an undertone to Bess and George, and hurried from the room.
Bess looked at George. “Where do you suppose Nancy’s headed?”
George shot a worried look after Nancy. “I wonder if we should go after her? I mean with all that’s been going on, I’m not sure we should let her go off by herself.”
“I agree,” Bess said. “But wouldn’t it look kind of funny if we all went rushing out? It might just draw the wrong person’s attention.”
“You’re right.” George nodded. “Nancy should know what she’s doing. But if she’s not back in five minutes, I vote we go after her.”
• • •
Nancy had wound her way through the maze of tables to the far end of the room where the French doors opened onto the veranda. By the time she’d made it outside, however, the two men were no longer in sight. Too bad. She’d really wanted to overhear what they’d been saying. She promised herself to keep an eye out for them.
As people finished eating, they drifted from the dining room out onto the veranda. The band had begun to play some light rock as background music. Bess and George had gone down to the end of the pool to get closer.
Nancy stayed by herself, lying back on the chaise longue and enjoying the rich velvet sky punctuated with millions of tiny stars.
“Beautiful, don’t you think?” a warm masculine voice said from close behind her shoulder, startling her.
“Oh, Mr. Coleman—” Nancy sat up quickly. “Hello!”
“Roger—please.” He smiled as he sat down beside her. “I thought we were on a first-name basis.”
“I’m curious—Roger,” Nancy said. “I was wondering why you’re still here.”
“You mean you expected Marva to demand that I leave and not come back? That would have been a little dramatic, don’t you think? Actually we got along quite nicely when we talked this afternoon. I think we understand each other.”
“You do?” Nancy asked. It hadn’t looked that way to her. Things must have changed after she left.
“Yes. Marva kindly suggested I stay the night and get an early start in the morning. Seems at this time of the year, the fog comes up off the ocean early and banks against the cliff. Driving on the coast road can be rather dangerous.” The corners of his mouth lifted in a wry smile. “I suppose she didn’t want to think about going to sleep and waking up tomorrow morning to find out I’d been killed.”
Standing, Coleman put out his hand. “The band seems to have switched over to the kind of dance music my feet understand. Shall we?” Nancy agreed. What better chance to keep an eye on him?
They hadn’t been dancing long before one of the guys from her hang-gliding class cut in on them. She lost track of Coleman as she danced with several other young men.
Then, after two or three more numbers, Nancy found herself in Gil Forrest’s arms.
“Having a good time?” he asked politely.
“Yes, thank you,” she replied, but she was feeling distinctly uncomfortable dancing with him, considering what she now knew about him.
“I wanted to talk to you alone,” he said, moving skillfully to the beat of a slow dance. “This seemed to be as good a way as any.”
“Does that mean you don’t want Marva to hear what you have to say to me?”
He nodded. “I decided to tell you exactly where I’m coming from. That way, maybe, you won’t go snooping around and foul up my relationship with Marva. Maybe you won’t tell her things that would only hurt her. After all, I’m not perfect. No one is. But that doesn’t make me a crook.”
“Where exactly are you coming from, Gil?” Nancy tilted her head so she could look directly into his eyes.
“I admit I want Marva to sell the club to Coleman. She doesn’t need all the grief the club’s been giving her lately. And Coleman’s offer is far too good to pass up. It would make her a wealthy woman.”
“Which in turn would give you access to a lot of money,” Nancy concluded, giving him a hard look. It was as good a time as any to test her theory.
“Yes. It would,” Gil replied evenly. “I’d be dishonest if I said I didn’t care about money. I do. But I want you to know I love Marva. Money or no money.”
The music ended, and Gil thanked Nancy for the dance. She couldn’t dismiss from her mind the fact that Gil still had one of the strongest motives of any suspect on her list. But he had sought her out to try to make his position clear. If he were behind the threats, would he be so open about his feelings?
As Nancy was trying to work out the logic behind Gil’s behavior, Marva appeared.
“I was watching you dance with Gil,” she said. There was a troubled expression in her deep blue eyes. “What were you two talking about? You looked so serious.”
Nancy hesitated. How much of what Gil had said was really necessary to pass on to Marva?
“He wanted to convince me that although he is all for you giving up this club,” she said, choosing her words carefully, “he would never do anything dra
stic—like sending those, threats to scare you into selling out.”
“Poor Gil. I hope he doesn’t think I suspect that.” She jerked her head toward Nancy. “You don’t think that, do you? Because that would be ridiculous. Gil loves me.”
“Yes,” Nancy said kindly. “He told me that, too.”
“Nancy, I know that Gil’s behavior hasn’t been the best lately. But I wish you’d put it down to the strain we’re all under—” Marva paused, and a puzzled expression came over her face.
Nancy followed Marva’s eyes and saw that she was staring toward the main building.
“What is it, Marva?” Nancy asked.
“Something very strange,” Marva answered. “There’s a light on in my office.” She turned to Nancy. “I was in there only a while ago, making a phone call. I distinctly remember shutting off the light as I left. And I also remember locking the door.”
“Could it be Gil?” Nancy asked.
“Uh-uh.” Marva shook her head firmly. “I know where Gil is. He wanted to do some last-minute work on a couple of the gliders before tomorrow’s class. He’s in the workroom.”
“Then I think we’d better investigate.” Nancy jumped up. She called out to George that they were going to Marva’s office.
It took only a few minutes for the two to enter the building and make their way down the hall toward Marva’s office.
While they were still only a few feet away from the door, Nancy held up her hand to stop Marva. “The light’s out now,” she said in a whisper, pointing to the dark crack at the bottom of the door. “Whoever was in there has probably gone. But maybe not. Let me go first.”
Slipping out of her high heels, Nancy picked one up and held it with the sharp heel pointing out. Good weapon in case I have to defend myself, Nancy thought. Then she crept the last few feet toward the closed door. Putting her hand on the knob, she turned it and pushed the door open at the same time. She reached in to snap on the light.
“Oh no!” Nancy gasped as the light flooded the room, showing papers strewn everywhere, furniture knocked over, and shards of broken glass littering the floor.
Someone had ransacked the place.
Chapter
Twelve
NANCY, WHAT IS IT?” Marva cried out. Rushing to the open doorway to stand beside Nancy, she stared into her office, but didn’t move. “Who could have done this?”
“What I’d like to know is why?” Nancy asked as she entered the room and stepped over the papers that had been scattered everywhere from the open file drawers.
She bent to retrieve some that were lying just in front of her. As she straightened up, Nancy glanced at the wall over the couch. Marva had a collection of framed photos hanging there—mementos of past club guests, famous people who’d visited the club, friends, and family. It wasn’t these Nancy saw. Her eyes were drawn to a pale square on the wall where a photo had been but wasn’t now.
“Marva.” Nancy turned to face her. “Did you take a photo off this wall recently? I think one is missing.”
“Excuse me?” Marva looked up from the mess to the wall. “No, I didn’t. Someone else must have taken it down.” A frown creased her forehead. “You don’t suppose it was the person who broke in, do you?” Marva asked, puzzled. “It was just an old photo of my father.”
“Your father?”
“Yes—well, not only my father. I was in it, too. Along with some of the guests who were here that day.”
“Do you have another print?”
“No, I don’t think so.” The loss was just beginning to sink in. “Oh, Nancy, I don’t even have the negative. I’ll never be able to replace it. And it was a favorite of mine.” Marva looked wistfully at the spot where the photo had been.
“Marva, tell me—those guests, can you remember who they were? What did the photo look like? Exactly.”
“Let me think. . . .” Marva leaned against the desk and tried to remember. Finally she raised her head to look at Nancy.
“Strange, isn’t it, how you can look at something every day, but then, when it’s gone, you have trouble remembering the details?”
“I know.” Nancy nodded her agreement. “But please try. I have a feeling it’s important.”
“Basically it was a picture of my father, taken when I was about seven. My father and I and a group of guests went hiking up to Devil’s Rock. Someone took a photograph of all of us when we got to the top.”
Nancy thought for a moment. “Do you remember anything else about the photograph? Who in particular might have been in the group?”
Marva shook her head. “You know—at that age all the guests were just so many adults to me. In the photo, they were just figures in the background. I never really paid much attention to them. Sorry, Nancy.”
“It’s okay,” Nancy said. “Maybe the photo will turn up,” she added. She gestured to the papers Marva had been clutching in her hand. “Can you tell what papers are missing?”
“Oh, it’s impossible,” Marva said, waving them in frustration. “I’ll have to spend hours sorting them out. But I did notice one thing. This empty file folder is one I kept on Roger Coleman’s offer to buy the club.”
“Hello,” a male voice sung out.
At the sound of the voice, both Nancy and Marva swung about to see Roger Coleman standing in the open doorway.
“I saw the light on in here and thought I might catch you before you went—” He broke off to stare at the wrecked office. “What happened here?”
“A break-in, obviously,” Nancy replied.
“So I see. Someone certainly did a thorough job,” Coleman commented.
“What was it you wanted to see me about, Roger?” Marva spoke up.
“I thought we might have another chat. Since I plan to leave first thing tomorrow morning, I knew there wouldn’t be time then. Just a few minutes. Alone,” he said emphatically, with a polite smile in Nancy’s direction.
“This is hardly the time for a business talk,” Nancy said, feeling protective of Marva.
“That’s all right, Nancy,” Marva told her. “Actually, this might be the perfect time for Roger and me to talk.”
Nancy was reluctant to leave. But it was apparent that the two of them wanted privacy.
When she walked out of the building, she found Bess and George waiting for her. The band had left, and only a few stragglers from the party hung about, chatting by the pool.
“Hi!” Bess linked her arm in Nancy’s. “We knew you were in talking to Marva and decided to wait.”
“We thought it would be better if we all walked back to the cabin together. Safety in numbers, you know,” George said.
“What would I do without you guys?” Nancy linked her arm with George’s. “I want to hear anything you have to report about the party, and then I’m going to fill you in on the latest with Marva.”
• • •
Bess reached for another cookie. Dipping it into her milk, she paused before bringing it to her mouth. “So I guess I’m a failure as a spy. I didn’t learn a single thing that might help, Nan. Sorry.”
The three were curled up on the couches in the cabin, a nearly empty package of cookies on the coffee table. A cozy fire crackled in the fireplace, taking the night chill out of the air.
“Ditto for me,” George said. “What do you suppose anyone wanted with the papers on Coleman’s offer?”
“I’m not sure,” Nancy said. “But I can’t help thinking his showing up just at that moment, right after we found the office ransacked, was too well-timed.”
“You mean he might have been the one who did it?” George asked.
“Or he hired someone to break in for him,” Nancy said. “Maybe he was hanging around waiting for Marva to discover the chaos. Maybe he hoped she’d be so upset that she’d cave in and sell him the club.”
Nancy put an unfinished cookie down on her napkin. “Of course Gil might have done it. Marva said that he’d told her he was going to the workroom, but that could have been a
lie. It could even have been Uncle Al.” Nancy explained that she’d seen Coleman in deep conversation with the climbing instructor. “He could work for Coleman.”
“Okay. So it all seems to come down to Coleman,” George said in a positive tone.
“But Nancy told us how nice he is,” Bess argued.
“Bess, how many times has Nancy been involved with a criminal who seemed nice at the start, then ended up being a pure rat?” George asked.
“Okay. Coleman’s the bad guy.” Bess tried to stifle a yawn, then gave up. “Case solved. I’m going to bed.” She stood up and stretched. “See you guys in the morning. Good night.”
“Hold on a minute, Bess.” Nancy stood up. “You’re going to have to put off bed for a little while. Right now, I need you to come with me.
Nancy handed her two friends their sweaters and started to lead them toward the front door.
“Where are we going?” George asked.
“I want to take a look in Uncle Al’s cabin. Maybe I’ll be able to find something that will tell me if he’s working for Coleman,” Nancy said, ignoring Bess’s sleepy protest. “Let’s go, you two.”
There was a light showing through the blinds as they approached the cabin. George touched Nancy’s arm. “He’s in there. We can’t break in now.”
“Not necessarily,” Nancy replied in a low voice. “Maybe he left the light on. Wait here, I’ll check.”
A couple of minutes later Nancy was standing on the porch motioning to her friends. “Just as I thought,” she whispered when they had joined her. “It’s only a night light.” Nancy soon had the door open.
“If anything, this guy is too neat,” George complained after the three had searched through the cabin. She stood in the center of the living room, hands on hips. “This place is like a motel room. I can’t believe anyone really lives here.”
“You’re right,” Nancy agreed. “There’s nothing personal here. No plants, no books or magazines, no photos or letters.”