Strangers on a Train

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Strangers on a Train Page 10

by Carolyn Keene


  “Ned?” I said.

  “Dropped?” George asked.

  “Yeah. No surprise, I guess.” I shrugged, not wanting to mention what he’d said, since Alan and Bess were in the seat right behind us. “Guess I’ll call him back when we get back to the lodge.”

  I couldn’t help wondering what Ned had found out about Alan. Was it good news or bad news?

  George was still taking pictures of the moose, which seemed to be taking its time ambling across the road. “Good thing Tobias isn’t on our bus,” she said. “He’d probably want to get out and say hello.”

  “Be nice,” Bess said, leaning forward from her seat. “That kid knows a lot about animals. He probably knows moose can be dangerous.”

  I glanced back to see if the other buses had caught up to ours yet. But there was no sign of them. “Looks like Mr. Moose is moving on,” I said. “He might be gone before Tobias’s bus gets here.”

  The tour continued. Our guide used the moose’s appearance to warn us once more about keeping a safe distance from the animals, especially the larger and more dangerous ones. Alan raised his hand.

  “My girlfriend claims moose are more dangerous than grizzly bears,” he said with a grin. “True or false?”

  “Depends how you look at it,” the guide responded. “It’s true that people have been hurt and killed by both species. Moose aren’t normally as aggressive as bears, though females with young can be quite protective. But due to their numbers and large size . . .”

  I barely heard the rest of the guide’s answer, distracted by wondering once again about Alan. Was he just joking around by asking a question like that? Or was it a clue that he might not be what he seemed? I wished Ned had been able to finish whatever he was trying to tell me.

  But there was no point in fretting about it now. Even if Ned had found out something bad—like that Alan was only posing as a university student to impress Bess—there wasn’t much I could do about it at the moment. If there was another mystery there, it could wait until we got home to River Heights.

  Oohs and aahs were rising around me, and I realized we’d just come into view of a gorgeous lake. I didn’t waste another thought on anything but soaking up the scenery until we stopped at a picnic grounds for lunch.

  The lunch spot was just as scenic as the rest of the park. It overlooked part of the valley, with rocky foothills behind it. We all ate quickly, talking about everything we’d seen so far. Then people scattered in different directions, snapping photos of scenery, wildflowers, and some Dall sheep visible on a ridge nearby. I pulled out my own camera to get a shot of a curious ­ptarmigan, but as the bird waddled away, I once again found myself feeling a little distracted. I just couldn’t seem to totally forget about those loose ends—­especially that note in my suitcase and the smashed glass on my seat. It was hard to believe either of those things was an accident or even a prank. But who could have done them? And why?

  I wandered off by myself around a pile of boulders, not wanting Bess and George to notice my expression. They both know me pretty well, and I wasn’t in the mood for their teasing. Leaning against one of the rocks, I stared at the mountains in the distance and tried to puzzle out some answers.

  “Nancy!” Alan burst into view, breathless and giddy. “You have to come check this out. I just spotted a litter of adorable baby foxes!”

  “Really?” The guide had mentioned that we would probably encounter some foxes in the park, though we hadn’t seen any yet. “Where are they? Did you tell Bess and George?”

  He tugged on my sleeve. “Hurry, before they wander off,” he urged. “I’ll find Bess and George and bring them over.”

  I tried to shake off my distraction. “Okay. Where are they?”

  He pointed to an outcropping nearby. “That way. Just climb over those rocks and down the other side and you’ll see them.”

  “Cool.” As he rushed off in the other direction, I headed for the outcropping. I was still deep in thought as I carefully picked my way over the rocky ground and clambered down the steep far side. That put me in a little valley near a creek sheltered on three sides by rocky slopes.

  I glanced around, but there were no foxes in sight. Hearing a noise behind me, I turned around—and found myself face-to-face with an irritated-looking moose and her calf!

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Final Answers at Last

  “OH!” I BLURTED OUT BEFORE I COULD STOP myself. My mind raced; what had that guide told us about mother moose being dangerously protective of their babies? I wished I’d paid more attention. “Easy does it.”

  The moose lowered her head, her ears back and her hackles raised. She grunted, moving her huge body between me and the calf.

  I glanced over my shoulder, ready to scramble back up the slope. But it was steep and pretty high. Would I have time to make it to safety before the moose charged? Or was it better to stand still and hope she’d realize I wasn’t a threat? Those seemed to be my only two choices, since the moose were blocking any other escape.

  Then I heard footsteps at the top of the rocky slope. Glancing up, I saw Alan peering down at me.

  “Thank goodness!” I cried. “Alan, quick—toss a stone or something behind the moose to distract it, then help me up!”

  Alan bent and picked up a rock. He wound up and threw it—right at the baby moose!

  The calf bleated in surprise and pain as the rock bounced off its head. That riled up the mother moose even more. She took a step toward me.

  “What are you doing?” I cried. “I said throw it behind them, not at them!”

  Alan smirked. “I was hoping for a grizzly bear,” he said. “But thanks to Encyclopedia Bess, I figured Mama Moose here would do just as well.”

  I gaped up at him, my brain not quite processing what he was saying. But he wasn’t quite finished.

  “Maybe this will teach your father not to meddle in other people’s lives,” he growled, throwing another stone at the baby moose.

  Luckily, that one missed. But the mother moose was pawing now, looking really angry. Alan picked up a large rock, tossing it from hand to hand.

  “D-don’t do this, Alan,” I said, my voice shaky. “Bess and George will be along soon.”

  “Don’t count on it,” Alan sneered. “I just sent them off looking for those imaginary fox kits—in the other direction.”

  Despite the danger, my mind couldn’t help fitting this piece into the puzzle. “It was you!” I said as realization dawned. “You’re the one who was responsible for all those loose ends!”

  “Ding-ding-ding! Give that lady a prize,” he said sarcastically. “Took you long enough to figure it out.” He hefted the rock. “You know—for such a fabulous detective.”

  I gulped, glancing at the moose. If Alan threw one more rock at her baby, I was pretty sure it would be the last straw. I had to distract him.

  “So you were the one who left that note in my suitcase?” I asked, trying to keep my voice from shaking.

  “That was an easy one,” he said with a mirthless laugh. “I pretended I’d left my passport in my suitcase. Nobody even gave me a second look when I was pawing through our bags. I switched the tags on your suitcase and slipped that note inside.”

  He actually sounded proud of himself. “Okay, good one,” I said, pressing back against the rock wall and trying to keep my voice calm. The moose eyed me suspiciously and let out a snort, but stayed where she was. “Um, so what about the mini-golf moose thing? Was that you too?”

  “Of course. I was just bummed that the antler mostly missed you.” Alan looked at the real moose, seeming amused. “Who knew it was the real version that would finish you off?”

  “And you pushed me off the walkway in Ketchikan, didn’t you?” Now that I thought back, I couldn’t believe I hadn’t seen it sooner. “I could have been killed!”

  “Bingo!” His
mouth twisted with amusement. “Not that it wasn’t fun to mess with you in smaller ways too. Like changing your wake-up call, and bumping George so she’d knock your bagel on the floor, and getting all your clean laundry sent out. Oh, and canceling your reservations yesterday too.”

  “And the glass all over my seat?” I waited for the answer, though I already knew it.

  “That too.” Alan sounded impatient. “But enough chitchat. I know you’re stalling. Or are you just trying to get me to confess?” He barked out a laugh as he hoisted the rock again. “Because if that’s your game, you might as well give it up. You can’t prove anything, even if Mama Moose doesn’t trample you.”

  “She won’t have to,” a confident but rather high-pitched voice rang out behind him. “We just heard you confess to everything!”

  Alan dropped his rock and spun around in surprise. Tobias stepped into view, with Wendy right behind him.

  “The kid’s right,” Wendy said. “We heard it all.”

  Tobias glared at Alan. “I came to look for you when our bus got here,” he said. “I wanted to ask you if there were any interesting spiders around this place.”

  Alan didn’t respond. Casting a desperate look around, he shoved past Wendy and took off running. “Guys?” I called up as gently as I could, keeping one eye on the mother moose. “A little help here?”

  “Right.” Tobias grabbed the rock Alan had dropped. He hurled it a few yards behind the moose, where it landed in some weeds with a thud.

  The mother moose heard it and spun around, shoving her calf aside and snorting suspiciously at the spot where the rock had landed.

  Meanwhile Wendy bent and stretched a hand down, then grabbed my arm and helped to pull me up as I scrambled for safety. Whew!

  “Where’d he go?” I asked as soon as I caught my breath. “Hurry—we have to find him! Who knows what he’s capable of?”

  “I still can’t believe Alan was after you this whole time,” Bess said. “How stupid am I?”

  I glanced at her. She and George and I were on the lodge’s back deck, relaxing in lounge chairs and enjoying the bright Alaska evening.

  “Don’t beat yourself up,” I said. “He had us all fooled.”

  “Not me,” George put in with a frown. “I never liked the jerk.”

  “You never like any of the guys Bess dates,” I reminded her with a half smile.

  The smile faded as I sighed, thinking back on the events of the day. Everything was kind of a blur for the few minutes after I’d climbed out of that moose pit. Wendy, Tobias, and I ran back and told Hiro and ­Tatjana what had happened. A search was mounted, and Alan was found quickly. There weren’t many places to hide in the sparse landscape, and Alan wasn’t much of an outdoorsman.

  Soon the bus driver was radioing for help, and we were waiting for the police to come and take Alan away. In the meantime, he’d had quite a bit to say. Apparently my father had been the prosecuting attorney who’d helped get Alan’s father put away for life for fraud and embezzlement. Alan had vowed revenge, but he’d decided that just going after my dad wasn’t enough. He wanted to hurt him by hurting his ­family—which meant me. And that must have been what Ned was calling to tell me before the call was dropped.

  That was the whole reason he’d pursued Bess. He’d figured it would be an easy way to get close to me, figure out my weaknesses. The Alaska trip was a lucky break for him. It had given him lots of opportunities to mess with me.

  Then he’d found out that I really was a pretty accomplished sleuth. That had made him realize he needed to up the ante. He’d started watching for a chance to really hurt me. His original plan had involved causing an accident during that horseback excursion I’d ended up skipping, but spotting that mother moose had provided him with a second chance.

  “I couldn’t believe the way he kept threatening you, even when the police were dragging him away.” Bess shivered, wrapping her arms around herself. “Swearing he’d never rest until you and your dad paid . . . What a nut!”

  “Good thing Wendy recorded his whole rant on her smartphone.” George grinned. “I loved the way she waved the phone in his face and told him she was going to forward it to the police.” She leaned back in her chair. “You know, I thought that chick was a real weirdo at first. But she’s okay.”

  “Tobias, too,” Bess put in. “I’m glad he finally started to enjoy this vacation. He’s actually kind of a cool kid.”

  I glanced at her with a wry smile. “It just goes to show that people aren’t always what they seem.”

  “No kidding,” Bess said with feeling. “I still can’t believe I fell for a jerk like Alan.”

  We heard the door swing open behind us. Sitting up, I saw Wendy hurrying over.

  “There you are!” she said. “Listen, I know you’ve had a tough day, Nance. But I’d love to get a post about this whole dealio up before the story hits the wires.” She winked. “Nothing like an exclusive for a little free publicity, right? So how about it? Can we do that interview now? Maybe get some photos of the day’s hero?” She formed her hands into a mock camera lens, framing me inside it.

  Once again, I hesitated. I really owed her now. But I still didn’t like the thought of losing even more of my anonymity if she got her wish and the story went viral.

  “I’ve got an even better idea,” I told her. “You should focus your story on the real hero of today.”

  “Who, the moose?” George put in. “You’re right, she showed great restraint in not stomping you. But I doubt she’s in any mood for interviews.”

  I ignored her, standing up and smiling at Wendy. “Let’s go find Tobias,” I said. “I’m thinking maybe you could focus your story around him. Isn’t that the kind of thing that’s more likely to go viral? Kid hero saves the day?”

  Wendy’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh my gosh, you’re so right!” she exclaimed. “I know I can get some serious attention with that story. Nancy, you’re a total genius!”

  “You don’t know the half of it,” George said with a smirk.

  But Wendy was already heading for the lobby, shouting for us to hurry up and follow. “Come on,” I told my friends with a smile. “Let’s go help her track down her new victim—er, I mean star.”

  “And maybe then we’ll be able to relax and enjoy the rest of the trip?” Bess said.

  I grinned. “Definitely.”

  Dear Diary,

  * * *

  WOW! THAT’S ABOUT ALL I CAN SAY.

  I would never have believed that the bones of endangered animals were valuable enough to be smuggled.

  But almost more incredible was that Alan posed as Bess’s boyfriend just to get revenge on me.

  As spectacular as Alaska was—Mount McKinley did take my breath away—I can’t wait to get back to River Heights.

  ’Cause in the end, there’s no place like home.

  READ WHAT HAPPENS IN THE NEXT MYSTERY IN THE NANCY DREW DIARIES,

  Mystery of the Midnight Rider

  “IS THAT HER?” I ASKED, SHADING MY EYES against the glare of the afternoon sun. “The one in the beige breeches and tall boots?”

  Ned grinned. “You’ll have to be more specific, Nancy. Just about everyone out there is wearing beige breeches and tall boots.”

  The two of us were leaning on the rail of a large riding ring at the local fairgrounds. At the moment it was crowded with horses and riders warming up for their next class. All of them—male and female, teenagers and adults—were dressed almost exactly alike.

  “You have a point,” I said with a laugh. “So how are we supposed to know who to cheer for once the class starts?”

  Just then one of the horses separated from the others and trotted toward us. “Ned Nickerson? Is that you?” the rider called.

  Ned waved. “Hi, Payton! It’s good to see you again.”

  “You too.” Payton halted
her horse in front of us and smiled shyly. She was about sixteen, with a slender build and delicate features that made her look tiny atop her horse, an enormous bay with a splash of white on its forehead.

  “Payton, this is my girlfriend, Nancy Drew,” Ned said. “Nancy, this is Payton Evans.”

  “Nice to meet you,” I said. “Your horse is beautiful.”

  “Thanks.” Payton leaned forward to give the horse a pat on its gleaming neck. “He’s actually not mine, though. I’m riding him for my trainer—he’s one of her sale horses. He’s still a little green, but he’s coming along.”

  “Green?” Ned raised an eyebrow. “Looks kind of reddish-brown to me.”

  I rolled my eyes at the lame joke. “Green just means he’s not fully trained yet,” I explained.

  “That’s right.” Payton smiled at me. “Are you a rider, Nancy?”

  “Not really.” I shrugged. “But I took some lessons when I was a kid. And I never miss coming out to watch this show.” I returned her smile. “Even when I’m not acquainted with one of the star riders.”

  I glanced around, taking in the hustle and bustle surrounding me. The annual River Heights Horse Show was a prestigious competition, attracting top hunter-jumper riders from all over the country.

  Payton’s smile faded slightly. “I’m not the star,” she said, her voice so soft I could barely hear it over the thud of hoofbeats and chatter of riders and spectators. “The horses are the stars. I’m just along for the ride.”

  “You don’t have to be modest,” I told her with a chuckle. “Ned’s told me all about you. He says you’ve been riding since you were practically in diapers, you’ve had all kinds of success on the A circuit, and that you’re supertalented and hard working.”

  Payton shrugged, playing with the tiny braids in her mount’s mane. When she responded her voice was even quieter. “It’s easy to work hard at something you love.”

  As an experienced amateur detective, I’m pretty good at picking up clues. But it didn’t take a supersleuth to tell that Payton wasn’t comfortable with our current line of conversation. Time for a change of ­subject.

 

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