“So what can I get you?”
“Mmmm, at least one muffin,” I answered. “And a latte.”
“You want the muffin warmed up?” Susie asked.
“Absolutely.”
“Take a seat—I’ll be right back.”
I looked around. There were several serious book buyers probing the shelves, but the Saturday evening regulars hadn’t strolled in yet, so I had a nice choice of tables.
I took a seat at a small round table with chipped blue paint. I plopped my backpack into the chair next to me and dug into it for my phone. As I was looking down, two hairy legs walked past my table and stood in front of the chalkboard with their calves toward me.
I couldn’t control the shudder that ran through my body when I saw who had wandered in. I didn’t see his face, but I’d recognize those red biking shorts anywhere.
10
Spinning My Wheels
The man in the red shorts stood with his back to me for a few more minutes studying Susie’s chalkboard. Finally I heard his voice for the first time. It was low and scratchy.
“I’ll have a veggie wrap and an Americano,” he said. “Extra mustard on the wrap.”
“For here or to go?” Susie asked.
“Here, I guess,” he said.
“It’ll be just a few minutes,” Susie said. “Have a seat anywhere.”
The man turned and started toward the book-cases—the biology section—but I stopped him with a question.
“Excuse me—I saw you at the starting line of the bike race this morning,” I said. “How come you’re not out on the course? Aren’t you on one of the cycling teams?”
I held my breath when he looked at me because he could have been asking me the exact same question. But my gamble paid off. Apparently he didn’t recognize me without my racing clothes. To him I was just a patron of Susie’s.
“Uh, no,” he answered. “I was just there to . . . uh . . . I was—do I know you? Haven’t I seen you around somewhere?”
I held my breath while he stammered out his questions. Maybe my first impression was wrong. Maybe he did recognize me.
“No, I don’t think so,” I answered quickly. “You might recognize me from this morning, though, hanging around the start of the race. Like I said, that’s where I saw you.”
He narrowed his eyes as I spoke. His shoulders seemed to tense up as he studied me. Did he remember bumping into me as he was chased offstage away from the safe?
“Oh, yeah, that must be it,” he finally said. He took a deep breath and appeared to relax.
He was kind of seedy-looking up close. If he’d shaved that morning, he hadn’t done a very good job. Or maybe he was trying to grow a beard, and it was in that stage where it just made the lower half of his face look dirty. His black jersey was faded, and fraying threads hung from the ends of his sleeves. His sneakers were caked with muddy clumps.
“I’m sure I saw you with a bike this morning,” I persisted. “That must have been why I thought you were on one of the teams. I’m a big fan. That’s my road racer out there.”
Red Shorts looked out the window at my bike in the rack. “Pretty cool,” he said.
“I have your order ready,” Susie said, coming up behind Red Shorts with a tray. “Where would you like to sit?”
“You can join me if you want,” I suggested. “I love to talk about bikes.”
Susie gave me an odd look—almost a frown, but not quite. I could tell from her expression that she thought Red Shorts and I were an odd match. She probably wondered why I was even talking to him, let alone inviting him to sit at my table. She tilted her head slightly. Red Shorts couldn’t see her because she was still behind him.
I raised my eyebrow and shook my head slightly. She’s known me for a long time and knows I’m a detective, so I took a shot and hoped she’d understand my gesture.
I could almost see her adding up the facts—Nancy’s left the race, Nancy’s talking to this weird guy, Nancy must be on a case. I knew she’d gotten the message when she smiled and spoke up.
“Good idea,” she said, putting Red Shorts’s sandwich and coffee in front of an empty chair at my table, and then handing me my muffin and latte. “Enjoy.”
She left quickly to go back to the kitchen, her straight hair flipping from side to side. Red Shorts paused for a minute, then pulled out the chair and sat down.
“My name’s Nancy,” I said, holding out my hand. I decided not to tell him my last name. I’d never seen him before this morning, but I’m often surprised to learn that people who’ve never met me have still heard of me.
“Jasper,” he responded.
He held out a thin, long-fingered, grubby hand. He barely clasped mine, then took his hand back and wiped it on his napkin. I wished he’d done that before he touched me. His hand felt oily, sort of slimy.
“Is that your first name or your last?” I asked. I couldn’t tell and didn’t know whether to call him “Mr. Jasper” or not.
“Just Jasper,” he said, taking a huge slurp of steaming Americano.
He looked out the window again. “So that’s yours, huh? I’m surprised you’re not in the race. You could make some real time on that thing. It’s pretty slick.”
“Yeah, well, all the teams were filled by the time I considered it,” I said, sipping my latte and breaking off a piece of my muffin. “What about you? How come you’re not out there?”
He didn’t answer at first, opting to take an enormous bite out of his wrap. “This is really good,” he said. He wasn’t exactly talking to me. He was just announcing it into the air.
He whipped his head around and yelled at Susie. “Fix me another one of these wraps, okay?” he yelled. “Man, I’m hungry.”
“You got it,” Susie called back.
A group of six chattering college-student-types came through the door and took a long table with benches next to the far wall. I didn’t know any of them, and I was relieved about that. I didn’t want anyone recognizing me and asking me about my team in front of Jasper.
“I don’t have a road bike,” Jasper said, finally coming back to my question. “Or any bike, for that matter. This morning I had a mountain bike. But there aren’t too many mountains around here.” He grinned.
“We’ve got a lot of rough terrain though,” I said. “A mountain bike would be really handy along the river and over some of the hills around River Heights. Do you live here in town?”
“Well, that bike’s not mine anyway,” Jasper said, ignoring my question.
“It isn’t?”
“Nah, it’s my brother’s. I haven’t had a bike since I was a kid. I borrowed the mountain bike from him ’cause I was going to trek downriver for the weekend. Do you like snakes? I do. I was going down to pick some up. Thought I’d start a little business.”
“You must have had to cancel the trip, I guess, or you wouldn’t be here,” I concluded. “So what happened?”
“Eh, my brother needed the bike back. He had to go someplace after the race started and his car broke down. I might get me one of my own though. That bike’s got a real good feel to it. And you’re right, it does great along the river. So much of that land is still so wild.”
“It’s wonderful, isn’t it?” I said. “It’s so cool that the town is keeping it undeveloped. It’s great for hiking and riding.”
“Mmmmmph,” Jasper said, stuffing the rest of his wrap down his throat.
“Okay, I’m taking this one with me,” he told Susie when she delivered his second sandwich. He glugged the rest of his coffee and jumped up from his chair.
I watched closely as he paid for his meal. He used grubby old bills wadded in a small change purse. Then he nodded once at me, grabbed his bag of food from Susie at the counter, and hurried out of the café. He shuffled across the street and out of sight.
I went outside to watch him, although I was pretending to check my bike chain. Crouched behind the spokes, I had a good view. A block away he got into a beat-up tan seda
n and quickly drove up Main Street. The car wobbled in the back, as if the shock absorbers were shot.
I stood up. It would do no good to follow him on my bike. Even if I could keep up with him, every time he looked in the rearview mirror, it’d be pretty obvious that I was tailing him. So I went back inside to pay my bill—even though I hadn’t even had a chance to eat my muffin.
“Tell me the truth,” Susie said, her voice low. She looked from side to side while she talked, as if to make sure no one was overhearing our conversation. “You’re on a case, right? Can you tell me about it?”
“Let’s just say I’m looking into some things,” I answered. “Do you know anything about that guy? Does he live in town?”
“I’ve only seen him a couple of times,” Susie said. “I think he lives somewhere on the river. I try not to listen to my customers’ conversations, but I can’t help hearing sometimes. He was in here once before with someone, and they were planning to go down the river to Rocky Edge and catch snakes.”
“Right—he told me he wants to start a snake business, whatever that means. Yuck.”
“Yuck is definitely the word,” Susie said. “I stopped listening when I heard that.”
Susie handed me my change and I left. I knew I had to call my team. By this time they’d set up camp and were probably eating dinner. I wondered how Bess had done on the last leg of today’s course. I missed being in the race, and I wished I’d been out there streaking through the loopbacks with the others. But there was no question about what my priority should be. All the racing these two days would be for nothing if the stolen pledge money wasn’t recovered.
I also knew that I had to talk to Officer Rainey. My encounter with Jasper Red Shorts was inconclusive. His whole attitude and his behavior in Susie’s café had been so casual and laid back. It was hard to believe that he’d committed a major theft just hours earlier.
I didn’t expect the thief to be out of town yet. Luther made a lot of sense when he compared today’s robbery with the historic one by the Rack-ham Gang. Whoever stole the money would be crazy to try to leave town before dark. And Chief McGinnis reinforced that when he confirmed that there were roadblocks to the main exit routes.
But nighttime is another matter—especially along the water, where there’s no way to cover every inch of the riverbank. Susie said she thought that Jasper lived somewhere on the river. He’d probably know all sorts of inlets and hidden spots along the bank where he could launch a boat and get away with a stolen bag of money.
Officer Rainey could definitely be the key. He would surely remember the only person in the crowd who dared to jump onstage and practically stick his hands in the safe.
There must be some way . . . Mrs. Mahoney! She’s the chairwoman of the Biking for Bucks board of directors, and they hired Officer Rainey. She’d have some idea where I could find him. I also wanted to get her thoughts on why Mr. Holman had been arrested. I’d talk to her first, and then call my team and give them a full update.
I jumped on my bike and headed straight for Mrs. Mahoney’s home. I knew she would see me without an appointment. My father has been her attorney for as long as I can remember—since her husband, Cornelius, was alive. And I have helped her occasionally fend off the con men who have preyed on her since she became a rich widow.
The Mahoney home is in the most elegant area of town, on Bluff Street. Mrs. Mahoney answered the door herself, dressed in navy blue slacks and a creamy white sweater.
“Oh, Nancy, dear, forgive me for greeting you like this,” she said. “Our butler is out of town visiting his sick aunt.”
That was typical of Mrs. Mahoney. She apologized to me because the butler didn’t open the door for me and she had to. Dad says that she is very up to date in a lot of ways. But in other aspects—such as manners and behavior—she is definitely from a different era.
“Oh dear, Nancy, you’ve heard, haven’t you? What are we going to do? You’ll help, won’t you? How nice to see you, by the way. But aren’t you supposed to be biking?”
She looked at her watch. “Oh, it’s evening, isn’t it? The teams are resting now. But you’re not, are you? You’re trying to find our missing pledge money. I suppose you’ve heard about Ralph Holman. How lovely of you to work on this case in the middle of your racing.”
In less than two minutes, she had summed up my whole day.
“Yes, I am on the case, Mrs. Mahoney. I’ve already talked to Chief McGinnis and some other possible witnesses. But I’m trying to find a source who might be able to open up the case a bit more, and I’m coming up dry. I came here because I know you can help me.”
“Of course, Nancy. Anything I can do, of course. What is it? What do you need?”
“I need to talk to the security man you hired to supplement the bank’s security force and watch the pledge money. His name is Officer Rainey. He’s from a private firm, but I don’t know which one. If you can tell me that, I can track him down. I really think he’s key to the investigation, and I’m eager to interview him. Can you give me the name of his firm?”
“I can do better than that, my dear. I can give you Officer Rainey himself. He’s in the conservatory right now.”
11
My Midnight Sprint
Here?” I said. “Officer Rainey is here?” I couldn’t believe my ears. Sometimes a detective digs and probes and studies and researches. And sometimes she just lucks out.
“Yes,” Mrs. Mahoney said with a warm smile. “He is giving me his report about the theft and how it happened. Come join us for tea. Three heads are better than two.”
She led me to one of my favorite rooms in River Heights. No matter what time of the year, this room could transport you to paradise. It was a two-story round room capped with a large dome. All the walls and the dome were made completely of large panes of glass set in copper frames. The copper had weathered to a rich, pale greenish gray. Most of the glass was very old, with wavy patterns, and even bubbles in it.
“Officer Rainey, you are in for a real treat,” she called out as we entered the room.
She led me through the thousands of blossoming flowers and dozens of tall trees and other potted plants that thrived in the room. We skirted around small tea tables and chairs to the main table in the middle of the room.
“It’s Nancy Drew!” Mrs. Mahoney said to Officer Rainey. I was a little embarrassed by her enthusiasm. I had hoped to keep a lower profile with this man, but then I didn’t expect to be escorted right up to him either. Sometimes you have to take the bad with the good.
Mrs. Mahoney sat near the tea service. I sat down on one side of her, and Officer Rainey—who had politely stood as we approached the table—sat down on her other side. I liked that. He was directly across from me and I would be able to study his face as we talked. He still wore his security service uniform.
“Hello, Officer Rainey,” I said. “I’m so happy to find you. I’ve been wanting to talk to you from the minute I heard about this morning’s robbery.” I knew there would be no point in beating around the bush.
Officer Rainey’s face was a study in human expressions. He seemed to go from shock, to puzzlement, to anger, to embarrassment, to resignation—all in a split second.
“But how could you have known about—,” he began.
“Oh, Nancy knows everything,” Mrs. Mahoney said in a very matter of fact way. She didn’t even look up as she poured the tea.
“Oh, no,” I said quickly. “No, I don’t. That’s exactly why I wanted to talk to you, Officer Rainey.”
I sat back in my chair as I had my first sip of tea. I recognized the flavor immediately. It was Darjeeling from India. It’s my favorite, because it tastes like chocolate to me.
“She even knows that Ralph Holman has been arrested,” Mrs. Mahoney said, passing a silver plate of small sandwiches neatly arranged on an embroidered linen napkin. Another two-tiered silver dish held cookies and tiny blueberry tarts.
“Nancy’s here in a purely professional cap
acity,” Mrs. Mahoney continued, “although she is a personal friend of mine. She and you are colleagues, you see. Nancy is also an investigator.”
“I see,” Officer Rainey said. He still seemed puzzled. He took a bite of roast beef sandwich and a sip of tea. “I don’t really know you as part of any particular team of uniformed or undercover detectives. So I assume your interest in the case is unofficial?”
“Nancy has solved many cases that our very own police department had trouble with,” Mrs. Mahoney said. She leaned over and spoke in a low voice, as if she were telling him a secret. “Believe me, she knows what she’s doing.”
“And why is it exactly that you wanted to talk to me?” he said, after smiling briefly at Mrs. Mahoney. “You realize that I won’t be able to tell you any details as long as the official investigation is ongoing.”
“Of course,” I replied after swallowing. The roast beef sandwich was delicious—I’d had nothing since lunch except a bite of muffin. “I wouldn’t think of asking you to compromise your own work on the case,” I continued. “My main interest is in a man that I watched you chase off the stage this morning. He was a biker in red shorts who had jumped up to get a really close look at the money in the safe.”
Officer Rainey sipped his tea again and seemed to be thinking. Actually he seemed to be sizing me up, as if he were wondering how much he should tell me.
“Yes, I remember him very well,” Officer Rainey finally said. “I assume he’s a rider on one of the bike teams.”
“Didn’t you think it was strange that he just hopped onto the stage like that?” I asked. “You were looking to the side talking to someone, but you were still very close to the safe. He didn’t seem to be worried about that at all. He just jumped up there anyway.”
Officer Rainey smiled at me, but it was one of those weird smiles. The smile that means “Don’t bother your pretty little head about something you’re too young or too inexperienced or not smart enough to understand.” Yuck.
A Race Against Time Page 7