Lost in the Everglades

by Carolyn Keene

  Susan said.

  “That's awful,” George agreed.

  “Is something being done about that?” Nancy asked

  Susan.

  “We're all trying to do what we can. But a lot of the

  damage has already been done,” Susan explained.

  Half an hour later the girls came to the end of their

  walking loop, and Susan had to report for work in a few

  minutes. George wanted to go for a run around Eco

  Pond, which was a well-known bird habitat.

  Bess wanted to go for a swim. “So. Where are the

  good beaches around here?” she asked Susan. “I'm not

  too picky. I just want a smooth patch of sand,

  preferably white, where I can read magazines and

  watch cute guys play volleyball.”

  Susan chuckled. “There isn't any beach, unless you

  want to swim with the alligators and the sharks.”

  “I don't think so!” Bess exclaimed. “I think I'll spend

  the morning in the gift shop instead.” She turned to

  Nancy. “Want to come with me? We can buy souvenirs

  for your dad and Hannah and my parents. And maybe

  some postcards.” Hannah was the Drew family's

  housekeeper. She had helped Carson Drew take care

  of Nancy since Nancy's mother died, fifteen years

  earlier.

  “No thanks,” Nancy said. “I have something else I

  need to do. Susan, can I have the key to your room? Or

  could I go ahead and use Jade's key? I want to do some

  digging around.”

  Susan laughed. “Why? To go through my closet to

  investigate my fashion situation?”

  Nancy grinned and shook her head. “Nope. I want

  to go through Jade's stuff for clues.”

  An hour later Nancy was just finishing up with the

  first box of Jade's personal effects. Susan had packed

  them up into two cardboard boxes, planning to send

  them back to Mr. and Mrs. Romero in California.

  Susan and Jade's room was large and sunny, with

  white wicker furniture. On the walls were water-color

  paintings of various spots in the Everglades, including

  the Northwest Cape, Ten Thousand Islands, and the

  Noble Hammock Canoe Trail. The window was open,

  letting in a cool, salty breeze from Florida Bay. Nancy

  could hear seagulls shrieking and squawking in the

  distance.

  On top of Jade's now-empty desk was a framed

  photograph of her and Griffin standing arm in arm in

  front of a sailboat. Nancy had been stunned when she

  saw it. Jade really did look a lot like George. Like

  George, Jade had short, curly dark brown hair, brown

  eyes, and an athletic build. Jade was almost as tall as

  Griffin, who was fairly tall for a guy.

  Nancy had come across all sorts of things in the first

  box of Jade's belongings: dog-eared paperback books,

  hiking guides, old calendars, printouts of e-mails,

  letters, and clippings from magazines.

  There was a lot of e-mail to and from Griffin. Nancy

  felt uncomfortable about reading them since they were

  personal and romantic in nature, so she had scanned

  them quickly. She wanted to make sure they didn't

  contain anything that might be related to Jade's

  disappearance. They didn't.

  In the box Nancy had also come across brochures,

  newsletters, and other literature about the Everglades.

  There was an article describing the search for Native

  American artifacts within the park boundaries. There

  was another article about all the species that had

  become extinct within the park.

  But, nothing seemed to be a clue to Jade's disap-

  pearance.

  Nancy stuffed the articles about the Everglades into

  her backpack. She wanted to read them later, so she

  could learn more about the Everglades.

  Nancy set the first box aside and turned to the

  second. Her legs were getting cramped, so she changed

  position. Then she started digging through the second

  box.

  “Let's see if this box has anything interesting,” she

  said out loud to herself.

  After a few minutes she came across a folder of

  Jade's bank records.

  “Checking account, no savings account,” Nancy

  noted, glancing through the statements.

  From what Nancy could tell, Jade seemed to have

  been pretty strapped for cash. Did that mean anything?

  Or was it just a mundane fact about Jade's life that was

  unrelated to her disappearance? It was hard to know.

  Just then Nancy noticed a crumpled-up piece of

  paper wedged between two of the bank statements.

  She pulled it out and smoothed it.

  On the paper was a single handwritten word:

  PANTERA. It was written in red marker in big capital

  letters. It had been underlined several times, as if it

  was very important.

  Maybe this is a clue! Nancy thought excitedly.

  5. A Visit with the Drakes

  Nancy stared at the single word on the piece of paper.

  Pantera. Was it someone's name? Was it a foreign

  word? What did it mean?

  She closed her eyes and tried to think. Take the

  word apart, she told herself.

  Pan. She knew there were words like pantheism and

  Pan-Asian, in which the prefix pan meant “all.”

  Tera. She knew the word terra had something to do

  with land. All land. The problem was, the tera in

  pantera had only one r.

  “Hey, how's it going?”

  Nancy's eyes flew open. Susan was standing in the

  doorway, baseball cap in hand.

  “I'm on my way over to check out one of the

  campgrounds,” Susan explained, stepping into the

  room. “I thought I'd stop by to see if you'd found

  anything.”

  “Do you know what the word pantera means?”

  Nancy asked her.

  “Pantera, pantera . . .” Susan hesitated. “I don't

  know. Sounds Spanish, though.”

  Nancy handed the crumply piece of paper to her

  friend. “Is this Jade's handwriting?”

  Susan studied the piece of paper. “Uh-huh. Did you

  find it in one of the boxes?”

  “Yup.”

  “That's funny, I didn't notice it before.” Susan sat

  down cross-legged on the floor, next to Nancy. “Hey, I

  just had a totally brilliant thought! There's a company

  based in Miami called the Panterra Corporation. Two

  r's, I think, not one. It's run by a couple named Bill and

  Ellen—no, Esther—Drake. They're developers.”

  Nancy's blue eyes lit up. “Developers? As in, they

  build buildings?”

  “Uh-huh,” Susan replied. “The Drakes specialize in

  building huge housing, office, and shopping complexes.

  Their work has been really controversial, because a lot

  of it is on the outskirts of the Everglades. People have

  accused them of contributing to the destruction of the

  park.”

  “Really?” Nancy said eagerly.

  “I think the Drakes are planning on building a new

  complex of some sort,” Susan went on. “I remember

  Jade talking about it. Of course it's very contro
versial—

  as always.”

  Nancy nodded, trying to process this new infor-

  mation. Her mind was racing. How much had Jade

  known about the new Panterra project? Was there a

  link between the project and Jade's disappearance?

  “Susan, did Jade know the Drakes, by any chance?”

  Nancy said out loud.

  Susan shrugged. “I'm not sure. I kind of doubt it.

  People like Jade and me don't run in the same circle as

  the Drakes.”

  Nancy and Susan talked about the Drakes for a few

  more minutes. Then Nancy switched to another

  subject.

  “Do you know anything about Jade's finances?”

  Nancy asked Susan. “I found some of her bank records,

  and she didn't seem to have much money.”

  “We're volunteers,” Susan said with a grin. “None of

  us have money.”

  Nancy laughed. “That's a good point.”

  After a while Susan got up to go back to work.

  Nancy said goodbye, then went back to work herself.

  She had a lot to do, now that she had a clue to go on.

  Panterra. Maybe Jade's trail wasn't too cold, after all.

  Nancy found a Miami phone directory in the lobby

  of the dorm and brought it out to the cabin she shared

  with George and Bess. George was still out on her jog,

  and Bess wasn't back from her gift shop expedition yet.

  Nancy sat cross-legged on her bed and propped the

  phone book open. Through the open window, she

  could hear the sounds of people laughing and

  trampling through the palm tree grove, next to the

  cabin. It reminded her of her adventure the night

  before, chasing the eavesdropper in the darkness.

  Nancy smiled. She and her friends had barely ar-

  rived at the Everglades before she'd gotten herself

  knee-deep in a mystery!

  Nancy flipped through the pages of the phone book

  and found the phone number for the Panterra

  Corporation. Then she reached for the phone and

  dialed the number.

  After a few rings a crisp male voice answered:

  “Panterra Corporation, how may I direct your call?” In

  the background, Nancy could hear other phones

  ringing.

  “Hi, could I speak to Bill Drake, please?” Nancy

  said. She figured that if Mr. Drake wasn't available, she

  could turn around and ask for his wife.

  “Bill Drake. That's extension five-seventeen. The

  line is busy. Let me see if his assistant can help you.”

  While the receptionist put Nancy through, Nancy

  picked up a pencil and noted Bill Drake's extension on

  a piece of paper. A few seconds later a female voice

  picked up.

  “Bill and Esther Drake's office. This is Sandy

  speaking, may I help you?” she said. She sounded

  breathless and harried.

  Nancy tried to make herself sound as businesslike

  and official as possible. “Good morning, is M r. Drake

  there, please?”

  “Who's calling?”

  Nancy hesitated for half a second before saying,

  “Nancy Drew.” There was no reason for her not to use

  her real name.

  There was a brief silence on the other end of the

  phone. Then Sandy said, “I'm sorry, Mr. Drake isn't

  available right now. May I take a message?”

  “How about Mrs. Drake?” Nancy asked her.

  “She isn't available, either. Is there a message?”

  Sandy sounded impatient now.

  “No, no message. I'll try again later. Thank you for

  your help, Sandy.”

  Nancy sighed and hung up the phone. Now what?

  she wondered.

  Then an idea came to her. A slow smile spread

  across her face. If she couldn't talk to the Drakes on

  the phone, maybe she could talk to them in person!

  She jumped up from the bed and walked over to her

  closet. If she was going to pay the Drakes a visit, she

  had to get all the details right.

  “We just left Miami yesterday,” Bess complained to

  Nancy. “Why are we going back? I was going to spend

  the afternoon catching up on my reading. I'm suffering

  from a serious fashion magazine backlog.”

  She, Nancy, and George were in their rental car.

  The Miami skyline loomed ahead, consisting of sky-

  scrapers and high-rise condos. It was just before noon,

  and the midday sun blazed brightly in the clear sky.

  Nancy was behind the wheel. She turned briefly and

  smiled at Bess, who was sitting next to her. “I told you.

  We're paying a little visit to the Panterra Corporation.”

  She paused and added, “Well, I am, anyway. I have

  another job for you and George.”

  “Another job? You didn't tell us that,” George piped

  up from the backseat.

  “I'm going to drop you guys off at the public library

  to do some research on the Panterra Corporation,”

  Nancy explained.

  “Research? What kind of research?” Bess asked her.

  She reached over and turned on the radio. A Cuban

  jazz instrumental was playing. She started clicking her

  fingers and swaying back and forth. “Hey, this radio

  station is awesome!”

  “I need whatever information you can find on

  Panterra,” Nancy replied. “Especially stuff having to do

  with controversial building projects, the Everglades

  park system, et cetera, et cetera.”

  “Hmm,” Bess said. “By the way, speaking of fashion

  magazines. Nancy, you look great! Why are you so

  dressed up?”

  Nancy glanced down at what she was wearing. She

  had spent some time picking out the perfect outfit for

  her visit to the Drakes: a navy blue linen skirt, a

  button-down white blouse, and dark brown leather

  sandals.

  “I'm dressing to impress,” Nancy said simply. “I'm

  not sure I could get past the receptionist in my shorts

  and T-shirt,” she added with a chuckle.

  “Good point,” George agreed.

  A few minutes later they reached one of the

  branches of the Miami public library. The girls made

  arrangements to meet at a nearby restaurant for a late

  lunch. Then Nancy dropped George and Bess off at the

  curb.

  “Stick to business, okay? No fashion magazines!”

  Nancy called to Bess out the window.

  Bess saluted Nancy. “Yes, boss!”

  Nancy laughed, then she continued down the street.

  As she drove she glanced at a piece of paper with the

  directions Susan had given her. She also admired the

  pretty hotels and restaurants that had been built in the

  Art Deco style from the 1920s, 30s, and 40s. They

  were pastel colored—yellow, pink, light blue—and had

  lots of chrome designs.

  The Panterra corporate offices were only a few

  blocks from the library. In contrast to the Art Deco

  buildings, the Panterra building was modern. It was all

  glass and metal, and reflected the vast blue of the sky.

  There was an enormous fountain at the front in the

  shape of a skyscraper. Just behind the building was a

  wide, beautiful
strip of beachfront. Two men in dark

  suits were standing near the water, talking on cell

  phones.

  Nancy parked the rental car and got out. As she

  walked from the parking lot to the front door, the two

  men watched her. Nancy was also aware of security

  cameras following her every move. They were small

  and discreetly hidden in the palm trees and flowering

  shrubs and other landscaping. But Nancy's trained eye

  missed nothing.

  What's up with all the security? she wondered

  curiously.

  Nancy took off her sunglasses, tucked them into her

  purse, and headed inside. The lobby was large and

  modern, and decorated with black-and-silver furniture.

  A man was sitting at the reception desk, behind which

  hung the words Panterra Corporation in big silver

  letters. The logo consisted of an image of the planet

  Earth with a silver skyscraper in the middle of it.

  “Can I help you?” the receptionist asked Nancy.

  Nancy recognized his voice as the one who'd answered

  the phone earlier.

  “I'm here to see Mrs. Drake,” Nancy said, impro-

  vising quickly. She pretended to check her watch. “I'm

  ten minutes late. Gosh, I feel awful,” she groaned.

  The man gave her a sympathetic look. “Penthouse

  floor, go on up. It's the last office on the right. Just ask

  for Sandy.”

  Oh, great, Nancy thought, remembering the crabby

  woman she'd talked to earlier. I have to deal with

  Sandy.

  “Thanks so much!” she said as she headed for the

  elevator.

  Once on the penthouse floor, Nancy made her way

  slowly down the hall. Unlike the exterior of the

  building and the modern lobby, the penthouse floor

  was decorated in subdued earth tones and furnished

  with dark wood, handcrafted pieces. There were

  posters and photographs on the walls depicting Florida

  nature scenes: forests, swamps, rivers, manatees,

  alligators, and birds.

  There were half a dozen people working at com-

  puters, but none of them glanced up at her. Phones

  were ringing everywhere. It was obviously a very busy

  place.

  At the end of the hall, Nancy saw a desk outside a

  corner office. A young woman sitting in a green swivel

  chair was talking on the phone. She had blond hair

  pulled back in a ponytail and was wearing an

  expensive-looking black suit.

  When Nancy got a little closer to the blond woman's