blizzard. You can use my snow boots by the door, and
my down parka on the hook above them. And here,
Nancy, take this flashlight.” Opening a drawer in a
nearby desk, Alice pulled out a flashlight and gave it to
Nancy.
After pulling on Alice's parka and snow boots, Nancy
flicked on the porch light and opened the door. Snow
was already a foot deep on the little porch, and the
wind threatened to slam the door closed on her. But
she managed to slip out the narrow opening and take
stock of her surroundings.
The porch light illuminated a circle of snow about
six feet in diameter. Nancy pulled the parka tight
against the wind as she inspected the pool of lamplit
snow. Boot prints led down the porch steps and into
the yard, disappearing into the darkness.
Leaning over, Nancy brushed the surface of the
snow with her fingers, hunting for more clues. But the
only clue she could find was the boot prints, which
were disappearing by the second under the soft snow.
Nancy placed Alice's boot inside one of the prints.
Alice's boot was much smaller, so Nancy guessed that
the prints belonged to a man. Because of the porch
overhang, the prints on the porch hadn't been filled
with very much snow, and Nancy observed that the
boots must have had heavy, rough treads.
Nancy shone the flashlight beyond the pool of lit
snow. Driving flakes charged relentlessly through the
dark air. Nancy glanced back at the house. The
windows of the Marshalls' wing were ablaze with light,
and the porch lantern shone like a beacon. She gritted
her teeth. I'll be fine, she thought. Alice is way too
worried. I won't go far.
Nancy trudged into the snowy yard, pointing her
flashlight at the boot prints and searching for any other
clues. Maybe the thief dropped something, she thought
hopefully.
A sudden blast of wind blew up snow from the
ground in a whirlwind of white. Nancy hugged the
parka tightly against her throat as she continued to
search. But there was nothing visible beyond the
footprints, which by now were almost filled up with
snow.
Nancy peered over her shoulder at the house. To
her amazement she saw no light—only snow cascading
like a torrent from the sky. Where's the house? she
wondered uneasily. I haven't gone that far, have I?
With a chill caused by more than the weather,
Nancy remembered Alice's words about people being
lost in snowdrifts next to their homes. I'd better follow
my footprints back, she thought, before it's too late.
Nancy shone the flashlight on the indentations that
she had just made, but they barely existed. The
intruder's prints were completely gone by now.
Whoever stole Rainbow must be out in this storm,
Nancy reasoned. How far could a person get even in a
four-wheel drive in this weather?
Nancy forced herself to stay calm as she hunted for
her tracks in the snow with the flashlight. Is it my
imagination, she thought, or is my flashlight growing
dimmer?
The flashlight suddenly went out. Nancy shook it
hard, determined to make it work. But her efforts were
useless—the batteries were totally dead.
The wind blew bitterly against her as she struggled
to get her bearings. Where is the house? she wondered,
glancing about for a familiar landmark, but the only
thing that met her eyes was thick, pelting snow.
Nancy shivered as snow trickled into her boots. She
swiveled to each side, peering into the darkness for any
hint of light. But each way looked exactly the same—
snow against a black backdrop of night.
Nancy stopped. She had become completely dis-
oriented. Which way do I go? she wondered des-
perately.
6. Stolen Property
Taking a deep breath, Nancy willed herself to think.
Alice, Jenny, and George know I'm out here, she told
herself. So it's only a matter of time before someone
comes looking for me, and the house can't be very far.
But I must have walked farther than I thought, she
reasoned, or else I'd see lights.
“Help!” she called, trying to make her voice heard
above the shrieking wind. “Alice, Jenny, George, it's
Nancy. I'm lost!”
She could barely hear her own voice. They'll never
hear me, she thought, discouraged.
Snow continued to seep into Nancy's boots. She
tried to wiggle her toes, but they were totally numb.
Under her pajamas, her legs felt as cold and stiff as
marble. With frozen fingers, she tugged at Alice's
parka, trying vainly to make it stretch past her hips. I'll
get frostbite if I don't find shelter soon, she realized.
“Help!” she called again. “I'm lost.”
“Who's that?” came a man's muffled answer. His
voice barely carried over the eerie whistling of the
wind, but Nancy felt like jumping with relief. “It's
Nancy,” she cried. “I'm over here.”
A moment later a flashlight bobbed into view. Thank
goodness, Nancy thought, smiling gratefully at the
hooded figure approaching her. A gray-and-white
husky with black-tipped ears trotted before him on a
leash—Icicle, Nancy remembered.
“Nancy?” the man said. “What are you doing out
here?”
Nancy glanced up to see Paul Ferrier's face peering
from inside the hood.
“Looking for Rainbow—she's missing,” Nancy said,
bending to hug Icicle.
Paul stared at her. “You're kidding! I mean, of
course you're not, but how . . . terrible.”
“What are you doing out here, Paul?” Nancy asked.
Nancy could tell that Paul hadn't been sent to look for
her, because he would have already learned from the
Marshalls that Rainbow had disappeared.
“Uh, I couldn't sleep, so I went to the education
center to work on an exhibit,” he answered. “By the
time I was ready to come back to the house, it was
snowing pretty hard. I decided to get one of the barn
dogs to come with me, just in case I got lost. It's kind of
a distance between the barn and the house, and
blizzards can be tricky—people have been lost in
snowdrifts practically next to their homes.”
“So I've learned,” Nancy told him.
“And to make matters worse,” Paul went on, “the
lights went out in the barn just as Icicle and I were
leaving it. I guess the storm took out the electricity in
the lodge, too.”
So that's why I couldn't see the porch light anymore,
Nancy realized. Between the electricity and my
flashlight, I had really bad luck.
Paul gripped Nancy's arm with one hand and held
Icicle's leash with the other. With her nose to the
ground, Icicle guided them through the storm. Nancy
crossed her fingers that Icicle would know the way.
Paul eyed Nancy disapprovingly as he
said, “You
should have known better than to go outside in this
weather, Nancy, even if you were helping find
Rainbow.” Frowning, he added, “Tell me more about
Rainbow. I can't believe she's missing. She probably
just wandered off somewhere in the house. She's
capable of jumping over that safety gate, you know.”
Keeping her head bent against the wind and snow,
Nancy began to tell Paul more details about Rainbow's
disappearance. But she left out her role as a detective
investigating the case. Most likely Paul is telling the
truth about working in the education center tonight,
she thought. Still, he had no witnesses. What if he had
just come back from taking Rainbow somewhere when
he found me lost in the snow?
Paul's flashlight shone on a darkened window. Relief
fluttered through Nancy—they'd reached the lodge. As
Icicle bounded onto the porch, the door flew open.
“Nancy!” Alice said, her hand at her chest as she
stood in the doorway. “I was about to call out a search
party for you. And, Paul—what are you doing here?
We thought you were upstairs asleep. Thank goodness
you brought Icicle. She'll bring a bit of comfort to
those poor pups.”
While Paul was busy telling Alice about his night,
Nancy asked to borrow his flashlight for a moment.
Shining it on the edge of the porch where some snow
had accumulated, Nancy studied one of Paul's boot
prints.
Sure enough, the print showed rough, heavy treads,
similar to those of the intruder. But since the earlier
tracks hadn't been clear, Nancy couldn't tell if they
were a match.
Pointing the flashlight at Paul's feet, Nancy saw that
his boots were surprisingly large, even though Paul was
a slim man of medium height.
One thing's for sure, she thought—his boots don't
rule him out.
Nancy handed the flashlight back to Paul, then
followed him and Alice inside. Shedding the parka and
boots, Nancy watched the grateful puppies settle
around Icicle in the pen as Jenny bottle-fed them by
candlelight. Icicle seemed resigned to the puppies
nipping at her belly as they hunted vainly for milk,
though every now and then she would firmly nudge
them away.
Nancy's fingers and toes tingled as they grew
warmer. After saying good night to the Marshalls and
Paul, Nancy returned to her room with George and
immediately climbed into her warm, dry bed.
The next thing Nancy knew, sunlight was pouring in
through the bedroom window. She glanced at the
bedside clock, which was blinking 12:00. The electricity
was working again, she realized.
Not wanting to bother George after a broken night's
sleep, Nancy quietly crept out of bed and peered
outside. Snow glistened on a pristine landscape like a
sugary glaze. Soft, round drifts undulated across the
fields, and the trees sparkled with dazzling white coats,
looking like strange Arctic beasts. Nancy couldn't wait
to go outside, but then she remembered Rainbow.
“Hey, Nan, what time is it?” George asked groggily.
“Between traveling yesterday and staying up half the
night, I feel as if I've been hit by a truck.”
Turning, Nancy saw George sitting up in bed, her
short dark hair tousled from sleep. “I don't know. The
clock is blinking twelve. We have to reset it. Anyway,
I'm surprised at you, George,” she added with a grin.
“You don't usually say you're tired. But one look at the
snow will cure you. The minute you see it, you'll want
to be out on the slopes.”
George joined Nancy at the window. “Awesome,”
she pronounced. “Let's get breakfast and hurry out-
side.”
Twenty minutes later Nancy and George were in the
dining room, eating steaming hot waffles that John had
just cooked. The Warriners and Paul were still asleep,
Nancy learned, but all three of the Marshalls, looking
totally exhausted, were eating at the table. John told
the girls that they'd stayed up the rest of the night
taking care of the puppies.
Bess joined the group, wearing black ski pants and a
black wool Irish knit sweater. When she learned what
had happened to Rainbow, she said, “I can't believe I
slept through all that stuff going on. I'm so sorry about
Rainbow. I hope we find her soon.”
“I hope so, too, Bess,” Alice said. “With Nancy here
to investigate, we've got a good chance of things
working out.”
Nancy smiled, but privately she felt worried. Other
than the Swiss army knife and some vague boot prints,
she hardly had any clues to go on. She wished she
could feel as optimistic as Alice.
“Speaking of investigating,” Nancy said, “I'd like to
search the barns. The person might have taken Rain-
bow to one of them, waiting for the storm to let up.
The boot tracks seemed to lead in that direction.
Maybe I'll find some clues there.”
Alice brightened. “I'm honored that you're getting to
work on the case right away, Nancy. Feel free to search
anywhere you want.”
After finishing breakfast Nancy, Bess, and George
waded through the snow to search the horse barn
they'd toured the day before.
“Hello, there, girls,” came a low baritone voice as
they were checking out an empty stall. “May I help
you?”
Nancy looked up, surprised to see a stranger in his
twenties gazing at her over the stall door. The man was
tall, broad-shouldered, and ruggedly handsome, with
dark hair and eyes full of good humor.
“Oh, hi,” Nancy replied. “We were just . . . uh, ex-
ploring. We're guests here at the lodge.”
“I'm Ross Minkowski,” the man drawled. “I take
care of the ranch here at Elk River.” He extended his
hand, and Nancy, Bess, and George each shook it.
Nancy felt immediately comfortable with his friendly,
open manner.
“It's nice to meet you girls,” he said, smiling. “Sorry
I wasn't around for you yesterday. It was my day off,
and I spent it snowboarding. I'd really recommend
giving that sport a try if you've never done it. It's a
hoot.”
“I'd love to snowboard,” George said excitedly
“Well, don't bother to rent the equipment just yet,”
Ross said. “The Marshalls have some extra stuff that
might be your size.”
“Thanks,” George said.
Nancy dug into her parka pocket and pulled out the
red Swiss army knife. “Is this yours?” she asked. “I
found it yesterday in the upstairs hall. It has your
initials on it.”
Ross glanced at the knife and shook his head.
“Nope. It's not mine.” Picking it up, he examined the
initials. “Let me think—who else has those initials?
Well, the only person who comes to mind is this
old
hermit guy down the road named Rusty Marconi. And
I doubt he would have been visiting the Marshalls.”
The girls thanked Ross and went outside. Nancy
didn't want to blow her cover by looking through the
barn for clues while Ross was there.
“He seems like a nice enough guy,” Bess said. “But
it's creepy that the only person he could think of with
the initials RM is Rusty.”
“I hope Rusty isn't stalking the Marshalls,” George
said. “The thought that he might have Rainbow really
freaks me out.”
“Me, too,” Nancy said. “But it makes sense that
Rusty stole Rainbow. He's mad at the Marshalls for
trying to get the town to make him clean up his land.”
“I bet that's exactly what's going on,” Bess said
darkly.
Nancy considered other possibilities for Rainbow's
disappearance. Casting her mind back to the night
before, she remembered Paul's claim that he was
working in the education center when the Marshalls
discovered that Rainbow was missing. His excuse
sounded kind of lame, Nancy thought. Would he really
have gone outside in a dangerous snowstorm in the
middle of the night just to catch up on some work?
Still, Nancy reasoned that they should rule out Rusty
before focusing on Paul. After all, there was no reason
for Paul to kidnap Rainbow. Just as she was about to
suggest checking out Rusty's property, the door of the
wing burst open.
John rushed outside, checking frantically from side
to side. The moment he saw the girls, he shouted,
“Nancy, George, Bess! Rainbow's puppies are missing!”
7. A Telltale Letter
The girls stared at John speechlessly as he made his
way toward them. “The puppies?” Bess squeaked,
barely able to get out the words.
“But didn't Grover and Icicle bark?” Nancy asked
when John had reached them.
He shook his head, catching his breath after slogging
through the knee-deep snow.
“Maybe they were tranquilized,” Bess suggested.
“Here's what happened,” John explained. “Alice and
Jenny took Grover and Icicle for their morning walk, so
our sitting room wasn't guarded when the thief
sneaked in. I'd left the puppies alone while I went to
the kitchen to plan dinner. When I returned to the
room after about half an hour, the puppies were gone.”