"Yes?"
"Has anybody been in here tonight?"
"No, sir. Just me."
Wright dismissed him with a curt nod and turned to Nancy. "Maybe it's been misfiled," he said. "I'll have my clerk look in the morning."
But Nancy could tell by the way he spoke that he did not think it had been misfiled, any more than she did. Edwin Wright, for all his caginess, had been upstaged—double-crossed by someone smarter than he was.
When they got to the police station, George was in the parking lot, waiting. It was after seven, but Nancy noticed, with some relief, that Sam's car was still in the lot. The case was getting so convoluted that she didn't want to explain it from the beginning to someone new. And she had to hurry. Wright needed to be at his estate when the call for ransom came.
Once inside the station house, Wright insisted on seeing Sam first—and alone. When Wright came out of the office, his expression was somber.
"One of our people will be at your place within the hour to set up monitoring equipment on your phone line," Sam said, shaking hands with Wright as he was leaving the building.
When the door closed, Nancy looked at Sam, exasperated. "How can you be so polite to him?" she said. "Don't you realize that he started this whole mess?"
"He's told me the whole story, Nan," Sam assured her. "He, of all people—with his knowledge of the law—knows he's in hot water. The D.A. may press charges, but right now we need Edwin Wright at home by his phone. Our prime concern is getting Jeremy back safe. And Wright is not a security risk. He's not going anywhere. Now, is there anything else you want to discuss?"
"Yes." Nancy reached into her pocket and pulled out the bangle. "I found this in the motel room, under the dresser."
Sam took it from her and gave her a long look. "Wright told me about this," he said in his low, slightly husky voice. "Nan, I know this is hard for you. I know this might implicate your friend, and I'm sorry. We have a team on the way to the motel now, to dust the room for fingerprints."
Nancy met his gaze. "And a team at Kamla's?" she asked.
"We will have," Sam replied. "I've got a call in now for two extra people. What you've done today has been a big help. Why don't you and George go and get something to eat, and I'll give you a call later tonight and let you know if there are any new developments."
"Okay," Nancy said, a little less defensive.
"Food sounds good," George commented when they got to the car.
"It does, but not yet." Nancy pulled out of the parking lot and headed toward the river road.
"Where are we going?"
"To River's Edge Day School. I want to ask Kamla about the bracelet. Maybe it was stolen. I know she won't be home. Tonight's the spring Open House program for parents."
When they arrived at the school, Nancy and George were stopped in the hall by one of the secretaries, who recognized Nancy from Career Day.
"Ms. Drew! How nice of you to come!"
"I'm sorry I can't stay," Nancy explained, "but I need to talk with Kamla Chadi. It's urgent. Is she in her classroom?"
"No, one of our teaching assistants has taken over her classroom tonight. Kamla called in this morning. She has the flu. I didn't talk with her myself, but I know she must have been terribly disappointed. Her class had worked on a special program for Open House."
"That's a shame," Nancy murmured as she moved toward the door. "Thanks."
Outside, the girls hurried to the car. "What do you make of that?" George asked.
"I'm not sure. But I'm worried about her. Let's get over to her apartment."
"The investigators that Sam called in may be there by now."
Nancy nodded. "But if Kamla reported in sick this morning, they'll be twelve hours too late. And she'd have to be awfully sick to miss that Open House voluntarily."
"What do you mean, voluntarily?"
"I don't know. I just have a funny feeling about all this."
"You don't think she's sick."
"No."
"Nan," George said slowly, "do you think that Kamla would kidnap Jeremy to get him away from his grandfather. Maybe take him to Jodi?"
"I honestly don't know. She knows the police suspect her. If she has him, she may be afraid to go to them. But I thought she'd call me." Nancy sighed. "There's also another possibility."
"What's that?"
"We may have two kidnappings on our hands."
"Kamla? But what makes you think that?"
Nancy shrugged. "I don't know. It's just speculation. Part of the plan to frame Kamla as the kidnapper."
"So she could be a victim or a criminal."
"Yes." Nancy pulled the car up to the curb in front of Kamla's apartment building. There were several other vehicles parked along the street, but no patrol cars.
"The police may be in an unmarked car," George said, reading her thoughts.
"Possible."
Kamla's car was not in her assigned parking space, and when they climbed the stairs to her apartment, there were no lights showing through the drawn drapes.
"Nobody home," Nancy said, with concern in her voice. She knocked, but there was no answer. She tried the door, but it was locked. Then she looked around to see if anyone was nearby and fished in her purse for a credit card.
"Keep an eye open," she said to George.
Minutes later the two friends were inside Kamla's apartment. Nancy reached over and turned on a lamp on an end table. The colorful room was neat. She walked through to the bedroom while George checked the kitchen.
"Nothing unusual in here," George said.
"Nor here," Nancy agreed, coming out of the bedroom. "The bed is made, her suitcases are in the closet. It doesn't look as if she left in a hurry. I wonder where she could have gone."
"She's had some phone calls," George said, pointing to the red light flashing on Kamla's answering machine. "The counter says four."
"Let's see if one of them said what time they called. It might give us a time frame on when she left the apartment."
Nancy touched the Rewind button and replayed the last message.
"Kamla, this is Kate Perry at River's Edge, and it's about ten o'clock, recess time, and for once I don't have yard duty. Anyhow, I'm sorry you're sick. There's a lot of that flu around. Get lots of rest, which I assume you're doing with your answering machine on. Kamla, the reason I called, besides saying I'm sorry you're sick, is that I can't find the song sheets and posters for your Open House skit tonight. Will you give me a call at the school and let me know where to look? Just leave a message in the ofiice. Thanks. 'Bye."
Nancy stared at the machine. "The last call came in at ten o'clock this morning. Hmmm. Wonder when the first one came in." She held down the Rewind button until the tape was back at the beginning. Then she hit Play. There was a long buzz and then a dial tone.
"A hang-up," she muttered. 'T hate it when people do that."
"Probably some automated sales pitch," George said. 'T still can't figure out how one machine knows it's talking to another machine!"
The next call was definitely not a sales pitch. Nancy held up her hand to shush George and turned up the volume. They stood and stared at each other as a melodic voice filled the room.
"Kamla! This is Jodi. I'm so excited, I can hardly wait. It's all falling into place so neatly. Looks like I'll be seeing you soon! Give Jeremy a kiss for me and a hug for yourself. I'm turning in. Sorry I missed you! I'll be in touch."
Chapter Ten
NANCY SAT DOWN in the desk chair with a thump, feeling as if someone had punched her in the stomach. "That'll cinch Sam's suspicions about Kamla," she said.
George nodded. "Can't we erase it?" she asked, glaring at the machine as if it were a hostile alien. Then, before Nancy could answer, she quickly said, "No, strike that! I wouldn't tamper with evidence. But I would like to know what the message means. What do you make of it, Nan?"
"I don't know, but I plan to find out," Nancy replied. "If the school call was made this morning at t
en, then Jodi's call probably came in last night."
"And she said she was going to turn in . . ."
"I think we need to talk to Jodi Fontaine,"
Nancy said as she opened the middle drawer of Kamla's desk and rummaged around for a personal phone directory. "Kamla said she had Jodi's private number. I just hope she's written it down somewhere."
George was going through the three side drawers of the desk while Nancy was talking.
"This may be it!" she said excitedly as she pulled a well-used address book from the top drawer. She turned to the Fs. "Yup, here we are, Jodi Fontaine. I hope she's calling in for her messages while she's in Mexico."
Nancy took the book and punched in the numbers. "It's ringing," she said to George, expectantly. The expression on her face changed. "A recording," she explained.
George paced up and down the living room of the apartment while Nancy completed the call. When she hung up, Nancy swiveled around in the chair. "Well, her recording says she'll return the call. I left my name and home number."
"And now?" George asked.
"Now I roll the answering machine tape ahead to where it was, and we get out of here before Sam's investigators arrive and start asking us questions!"
"What was the other call?"
"Just another hang-up."
The girls turned out the light and locked the door behind them. When they had barely reached the car, a green sedan pulled up in front of the building. Two men got out and climbed the stairs to the second story.
"Nobody home, fellas," Nancy said under her breath as she drove off.
Two blocks away from the apartment, she pulled into a gas station.
"What now?" George asked.
"I want to call Wright," Nancy said. "Find out if anyone has made contact with him. And then we'll go over to the police station and see if Sam has come up with anything more."
A strong wind was blowing when Nancy got out of the car, and overhead the sky looked heavy and black. She shivered and thought about Jeremy, hoping that whoever had him had taken him to a warm and sheltered place. If Kamla had him, at least he would be well taken care of. She pushed the thought aside. Kamla was not a kidnapper! But that message from Jodi was strange. Maybe they ^^^ere working together.
She dropped the coins in the slot and punched in Edwin Wright's number. One ring, two, and on the third ring she heard a muted click. The police recorder was operating.
"Edwin Wright," he said.
"Mr. Wright, this is Nancy Drew. I'm just checking to see if you've heard anything more."
"Yes, we've had a call," he said. He sounded like he enjoyed giving Nancy the information. "A person with a foreign accent called—a woman—muffling her voice, of course. It's all on the tape. I have an officer here with me."
"Well, what did she say?" Nancy asked, ignoring his veiled reference to Kamla.
"Only that further instructions would be forthcoming, and that Jeremy was safe."
"Did you actually talk to Jeremy?"
There was a pause. "No."
"Mr. Wright," Nancy said. "It would really help to have more information on Jack Farmer. Is there any way you can get someone to find that file tonight?"
"The police are working on the case, Ms. Drew. I really don't see any necessity ..."
Nancy took a deep breath and looked skyward. "Forgive me, Sam," she muttered at the heavens. She could just see Sam's reaction when he heard this on the tape.
"Excuse me?" Wright said.
"I'm at the police station," Nancy fibbed, "and we need more on the Farmer case. Tonight! Request of Officer Sam Fanelli!"
"Oh," Wright said. "Well, in that case, I'll see if I can get my law clerk to find it."
"Good," said Nancy quickly. "I'll be by in an hour to pick it up—and bring it back to the station."
When she slid back behind the wheel, Nancy's expression was pensive.
"Well, what happened?" George asked.
"They've had one call," Nancy replied, shivering. "Brrr! I think v^e're in for some cold weather. Wright thinks it's Kamla. He said the caller had a foreign accent. They've got the caller's voice on tape."
"If it is Kamla, a voiceprint will identify her," George said, almost to herself.
"Yes," Nancy said, "and it wouldn't be hard to pick up a control tape. She recorded her own message on her answering machine, and I'll bet there are classroom tapes at the school that she recorded. They're waiting for another call now."
"And what do you think?"
"Well, it's possible that Jodi and Kamla are working together. But I think that Farmer is still our most likely lead, and that if that caller was Kamla, she was forced to make the call. Right now they need to concentrate on finding Farmer, and Sam can't do that without all the information." Nancy shoved the key in the ignition and started the engine with a roar. "So I told Wright that I was at the police station, and that Detective Fanelli wanted his file on Farmer, and that I would pick it up from his house in an hour. He's calling Shelley Lawson to go and find it."
"Is this a confession?" George asked, a grin spreading across her face.
"Well, it was a fib," Nancy admitted. "But if the police won't concentrate on Jack Farmer, I will! I think Jeremy's life depends on finding that man. And it's not going to be a great night for a
search." As she spoke, big raindrops began to splash down, a few at first, and then more, until suddenly, with a crash of thunder, the sky opened up and sheets of cold, driving rain pounded on the pavement.
The parking lot at the police station was full, and every light in the building was on. Nancy parked on a side street, and the two girls dashed to the front entrance. Three uniformed officers were talking to the duty officer and, looking down the hall toward the conference rooms, Nancy could see several plainclothes officers hurrying in and out.
"What's going on?" she asked the duty officer. "I've never seen this place so busy at this time of night."
The young man at the desk nodded. "Haven't you had your radio on?" Then, without waiting for an answer, he continued. "This storm took out a levee and a power station upriver, and we're getting ready to evacuate two nursing homes. No heat, no lights, but lots of water. We're supposed to get freezing rain here, too. A major cold ifront coming through from Canada." He craned his neck for a look through the glass windows in the door. "Looks like we're getting it now," he said. "If that isn't enough, we have a family disturbance over on Twenty-fourth Street, and an APB out on a kidnapper. You name it, lady, and tonight, we've got it. Now, how can I help you?"
"I'd like to talk to Sam Fanelli," Nancy said. "If that's possible."
"He just got through with the captain," the ofl&cer said. "Let me ring his desk. What's your name, please?"
Nancy and George stood at the front counter while the ofl&cer located Sam and gave him the message. A few minutes later Sam came to the end of the hallway to greet them, and Nancy felt some of her tension draining away.
"Come on back," he said, "I have some more information for you." He ushered them into the same small conference room they had been in the night before. "Have a seat. I'll get the file and be right back."
"I hope his information isn't about Kamla," George said. "I don't need any more bad news tonight. And I know those policemen going up to her apartment were going to listen to that taped message from Jodi."
"Right," Nancy agreed. She was about to say something else, when Sam came back into the room with a sheet of paper. "This was faxed to us tonight by the FBI," he said. "Apparently, this guy Farmer worked across state lines and got himself in trouble with a number of agencies. Anyhow, the piece that I didn't have earlier was that in his last job, he had a female accomplice. Her birth name is Nora Smith, but she hasn't used that since she was fifteen—she changes names like other people change clothes. The Feds think that she was the brains behind his extortion racket. She was never caught, and she's very good at disguises. She walked away—he got sent up for three years. Nice lady!"
"D
escription?" Nancy asked.
"Nothing definitive," said Sam, "except her height, five eight. She changes her hair color, her eyes—with tinted contact lenses, her skin color with makeup—even her body shape and weight with padding."
"Well, thanks," Nancy said, standing up.
"Give me the keys," George said. "I'll get the car."
As she closed the door firmly behind her, Sam put his arm loosely around Nancy's shoulders. Her cheeks flushed, and goose bumps ran up and down her arms. She looked up into Sam's eyes and then dropped her glance.
"Nan, I did put out an APB on your friend Kamla Chadi. I have to take Edwin Wright's suspicions seriously." He took her chin in his hand and turned her head, forcing her to look at him. "But I also put out an APB on Farmer, based on what you told me. He's also a prime suspect, and I'll let you know when we pick him up."
"Thanks, Sam—" Nancy started to say, but the words were lost as he pulled her close.
Footsteps sounded in the hall, and Sam released Nancy just as the door burst open and an older man came in.
"Sam!" he said. "You know that Jack Farmer you were looking for?"
Sam nodded. "What about him, John?"
The officer looked at Nancy questioningly.
"It's okay," Sam said. "This is my friend Nancy Drew. She's a private investigator. In fact, she's working on that case. Nancy, meet Officer John Spanos."
Nancy smiled and extended her hand.
"Pleased to meet you, Ms. Drew. Well, about Farmer. We got a call from a construction crew foreman an hour ago. He'd gone back to the site on the north edge of town to secure their equipment, what with the storm and all, and he stumbled on this body in the ditch."
Nancy gripped the back of the chair tightly. She could anticipate what John Spanos was going to say, and her fear for Jeremy welled up.
"The foreman called for an ambulance, but the guy was DOA. They took the body to the morgue. Coroner just called here with an ID on him. It was Jack Farmer, alias Amie Beyers."
Chapter Eleven
"ANY SIGN OF THE BOY?" Sam asked.