Lost in the Everglades

by Carolyn Keene

  didn't exactly act guilty. Which makes me think she

  didn't have a hand in kidnapping Jade.”

  “Do you still think Jade's disappearance might be

  connected to the Drakes?” George asked her.

  Nancy nodded. “It's possible. But we need more

  facts. We also need to find Mr. Drake. I want to check

  out his reaction when he sees you.”

  The string quartet stopped playing, and a woman in

  a red dress got up on the stage and tapped briskly on

  the microphone. “Excuse me, ladies and gentlemen. I

  want to introduce our main speaker for this wonderful

  event, which was organized by SFEC, the Southern

  Florida Environmental Coalition, for the purpose of

  saving our precious manatee population.”

  The crowd broke into wild applause. “Let's try to

  find Mr. Drake,” Nancy whispered to George.

  Just then Nancy noticed something out of the corner

  of her eye. Griffin Carey—Jade's boyfriend—was

  standing by the buffet table.

  What's he doing here? Nancy wondered.

  Then Nancy noticed something else. Griffin was

  talking to an attractive blond woman. Their heads were

  bent very close together, as though they were

  discussing something very personal or confidential. The

  woman was dressed in a long, dark purple dress.

  There was something familiar looking about the

  woman. Who is she? Nancy wondered. And what is

  Griffin doing with her?

  Nancy tried to make her way over to the two of

  them, but before she had a chance, a wave of people

  cut in front of her, trying to get closer to the stage. By

  the time she and George got to the buffet table, Griffin

  and the blond mystery woman were gone.

  “Oh, great,” Nancy muttered in frustration.

  Just then she noticed something else. Mr. and Mrs.

  Drake were standing across the room, talking. At one

  point, Mrs. Drake turned around and pointed to Nancy

  and George. Mr. Drake nodded, and they continued

  talking.

  What was that about? Nancy wondered curiously.

  Did Mrs. Drake just tip her husband off that George

  wasn't Jade Romero?

  By the time Nancy and her friends got back to

  Flamingo, it was late in the afternoon. After making

  plans to meet for dinner, Susan said goodbye and went

  off to work.

  George and Bess started walking back to their cabin.

  Nancy stopped in the middle of the path. “Wait up,

  guys,” she called out. “I want to go over to the marina

  to see if I can find the motorboat from last night. You

  guys want to come with me?”

  “The motorboat from last night? Why?” George

  asked her.

  Nancy shrugged. “Just a hunch. I want to make sure

  that what happened to Bess was an accident.”

  “Sure, no problem, as long as I don't fall into Florida

  Bay again,” Bess joked.

  The three girls headed toward the marina. The air

  was thick with humidity. Palm trees cast long shadows

  across their path. As they walked, they discussed the

  benefit at the Coconut Beach Club.

  “We know this much,” Nancy said. “Mrs. Drake

  definitely knew Jade. She acted surprised when she

  saw you, George. But she didn't act guilty, which

  makes me think she wasn't involved in any weird foul

  play against Jade.”

  “What about Mr. Drake?” Bess pointed out.

  “We didn't get a chance to talk to him, so there's no

  way to tell. Maybe we can figure out some other way to

  run into him by accident.' “

  Nancy stopped to kick a pebble that was lying in the

  path. “I'm land of wondering about Griffin,” she went

  on. “I wish I knew what he was doing at that party, and

  who that blond woman was.”

  “He sure got over Jade fast,” George remarked.

  “You can say that again,” Nancy agreed.

  After a while the girls reached the marina. There

  were lots of people milling around: park employees,

  tourists, sailors rigging up their boats. Seagulls wheeled

  through the air, squawking noisily. A group of children

  were sitting on the dock, laughing and eating ice-cream

  cones.

  Nancy glanced around, assessing the situation. “You

  take that dock over there,” she told Bess, pointing to

  the dock on the left. “I'll take this one. George, you

  take that one.” She nodded to the dock on the right.

  “What are we looking for, exactly?” George asked

  Nancy.

  “A motorboat with a name that starts with the letters

  P-A-N,” Nancy replied.

  The three girls took off separately. Nancy went from

  boat to boat, checking out the names. There were a lot

  of fun names: Queen of the High Seas, Gone Fishin',

  Salty Dog, Sink or Swim. But Nancy didn't come across

  any that started with PAN.

  After a while Nancy and her friends headed back to

  their cabin. Bess and George hadn't had any luck

  either. “It's possible that the Pan-whatever motor-boat

  doesn't have a permanent docking space here,” Nancy

  said to Bess and George as they walked through the

  front door of their cabin.

  Bess took her pink rhinestone sunglasses off and set

  them down on the front hall table. “Do you think the

  same guy who was driving the gray car was driving that

  motorboat, too?” she asked Nancy.

  “It's possible,” Nancy replied. “It's also possible that

  the two events are totally unrelated. In any case, we

  should—”

  Then she stopped. She glanced around the living

  room, frowning. Something wasn't quite right,

  something was out of place.

  She saw what it was. One of the wooden chairs had

  been knocked down.

  Nancy whirled around. “Bess? George? Did you

  guys knock that chair down?” she demanded.

  “No,” Bess replied. George shook her head.

  Nancy glanced around the room, looking for any-

  thing else that might be out of place. All of a sudden,

  she had a bad feeling in the pit of her stomach. There

  might be an intruder in the cabin!

  Nancy put a finger to her lips, indicating to the girls

  that they should be silent. She walked very quietly over

  to the bedroom, reached for the light switch and

  flicked it on. The room was empty.

  The bathroom door was open. Nancy glanced inside

  quickly, then checked the shower—no one was there,

  either. She checked under all three beds. There was no

  one under any of them.

  “Nancy, what is it?” Bess whispered frantically from

  the living room doorway.

  “It's nothing, false alarm,” Nancy started to say.

  Then she stopped. There was something on the

  headboard of her bed—something that hadn't been

  there that morning.

  Nancy walked over to her bed. When she saw what

  it was, she gasped.

  Someone had stuck a note to the headboard with a

  big hunting knife. The note said: “Drop this case or

 
you'll end up like Jade Romero.”

  10. An Alligator Encounter

  Her heart hammering in her chest, Nancy stared at the

  warning note and the hunting knife. First the

  eavesdropper, then the gray car trying to run them off

  the road, then the motorboat incident—and now this.

  The case had become much more intense and

  dangerous than she'd ever expected.

  Bess and George came rushing up to her. “Nancy,

  what's going on?” George demanded.

  Nancy pulled a handkerchief out of her pocket, then

  carefully extracted the hunting knife from the

  headboard. She didn't want to mess up fingerprint

  evidence, if there was any.

  She turned to Bess and George and held up the

  knife and the note. Bess clamped a hand over her

  mouth and stifled a scream.

  “A-a-a knife?” she sputtered. “Someone stuck a knife

  in your bed?”

  “ Drop this case or you'll end up like Jade

  Romero,'” George read out loud. “Hmm, this isn't

  good. Someone's threatening us.”

  “Well, it's definitely not a love letter,” Bess pointed

  out.

  Nancy sat down on the edge of the bed and took a

  closer look at the note. The letters had been cut out of

  newspaper headlines and glued onto the paper to form

  the message.

  She touched the letters carefully with her fingertip.

  The paper was still a little damp.

  The person just put this note together today, she

  thought.

  “Someone's definitely trying to keep us from solving

  this mystery,” Nancy said. “Someone, or maybe a

  couple of someones working together.”

  George held up her hand and began counting. “The

  eavesdropper, the driver of the gray car, the motorboat

  driver—unless that whole thing was a coincidence—

  and whoever left us the knife souvenir. Are they all the

  same person? I guess that's the question.”

  Bess marched over to the phone and picked it up.

  “It's time to bring in the big guns. We have to call the

  police and tell them about this . . . this hunting knife

  incident.”

  Nancy was about to tell Bess to go ahead, but then

  she had a thought. “Put the phone down, Bess,” Nancy

  told her.

  Bess frowned at her. “Huh? Why?”

  “I don't want to tell the police just yet,” Nancy

  replied. “I have another idea.”

  Bess hung up the phone and made a face. “What

  other idea? It had better be good because this case is

  getting way, way too scary.”

  Nancy smiled. “We're going camping—back-country

  camping. In Whitewater Bay, via the Wilderness

  Waterway.”

  “Cool,” George said.

  “Not cool,” Bess protested. “I'm not even interested

  in plain-old-everyday camping. Which means that I am

  definitely not interested in going back-country

  camping. Which means that I am definitely, definitely

  not interested in going backcountry camping in some

  place called the Wilderness Waterway. It sounds too

  wild.”

  “We're going,” Nancy said firmly. “We need to solve

  this case once and for all. And going to the scene of the

  crime is the only way”

  “Crime? What crime?” George asked her.

  Nancy smiled grimly. “Whatever crime made Jade

  Romero disappear from the face of the earth,” she

  replied.

  “Backcountry camping?” Susan gasped.

  Susan, Nancy, Bess, and George were in the

  cafeteria, having dinner when Nancy told Susan her

  idea about going backcountry camping.

  Outside the window, the sun was setting over

  Florida Bay. A few lone fishing boats bobbed on the

  horizon.

  Nancy was really excited about her plan, and she

  hoped she could convince Susan to go along with it.

  She was ticking off a mental checklist of supplies they

  would have to gather: tents, sleeping bags, flashlights,

  batteries, backpacks, containers for food and water,

  and so forth. It had been a long time since she had

  gone camping, and she wasn't familiar with the

  Everglades.

  “Tell her she's crazy, Susan,” Bess demanded. “We

  need to stay right here to solve the Jade Romero mys-

  tery, not go traipsing around in the mud or whatever.”

  She speared a piece of broiled grouper, a popular

  local fish, and popped it into her mouth. “Besides, what

  are we going to eat if we're out there in the jungle?”

  she went on. “Berries or twigs or something?”

  Nancy glanced over her shoulder. Some volunteers

  at the next table were staring at their table curiously.

  They must have overheard Jade's name, she thought.

  She leaned forward and lowered her voice. “Look. I

  don't know why I didn't think of this idea before. It

  makes perfect sense. We need to go back-country

  camping in Whitewater Bay, where Jade disappeared.”

  “But the park rangers and police have already been

  there,” Susan pointed out.

  Nancy nodded. “True. But it can't hurt to take

  another look. We might be able to find some clues the

  search party missed.” She added, “Worst-case scenario,

  we might get some new insights into the mystery.”

  “That's a good point,” Susan agreed. She slapped her

  knees. “All right, I'm in. I'll see if I can get a couple of

  days off work.”

  Nancy grinned. “Great!”

  “There'll be showers there, right?” Bess asked

  Susan.

  Susan laughed. “Showers?”

  “Okay, well, sinks, then? Mirrors?” Bess persisted.

  Susan laughed again.

  Bess turned to Nancy. “Do I have to go? Can't I just

  stay at Flamingo and hold down the fort or

  something?”

  “Sure, you can stay here just in case our friend

  comes back to the cabin with another threatening note

  and another hunting knife,” George said to her cousin.

  Bess's blue eyes widened. “Hmm. Now that you

  mention it, maybe it's time I tried this backcountry

  camping thing. I mean, I've gone camping before. So

  what's the difference, right? So we're going to some

  place that's got stingrays and alligators and no showers.

  I'm tough, I can handle it.”

  Just then Griffin walked by, tray in hand. At first he

  didn't seem to notice the girls.

  Nancy really wanted to talk to him, to ask him some

  questions about Jade and about the Manatee benefit.

  She waved to him, trying to flag him down. “Griffin!

  Hey, Griffin!” she called out.

  Griffin stopped. Nancy wasn't sure, but he looked

  sort of annoyed. “Oh, hi,” he muttered.

  “You want to join us?” Nancy said.

  “I'm just on my way out, actually,” Griffin replied.

  “Thanks, anyway.”

  “Before you go, I wanted to ask you some stuff about

  Jade,” Nancy said.

  Griffin hesitated. “I really am in kind of a hurry—”

  Nancy smiled. Why was he acting so unf
riendly?

  “This'll just take a minute. Okay?” she persisted.

  Griffin put down his tray on the girls' table, pulled

  over a chair, and sat down. “Okay. I really don't like

  talking about her, you know? It brings back a lot of

  memories.” He sounded sad all of a sudden.

  “You poor thing,” Bess sympathized, putting her

  hand on his arm.

  “Thanks for understanding,” Griffin said. Then he

  turned to Nancy. “Okay, what did you want to ask me?

  I'll do the best I can.”

  “Was she—Jade—involved in any environmental

  groups that you know of?” Nancy asked him.

  Griffin shrugged. “No, not that I know of. I mean,

  definitely not. She would have told me if she had

  been.”

  “Do you know if she knew Bill and Esther Drake?”

  Nancy said.

  “You mean those developers? I'm not sure.” Griffin

  added, “Hey, speaking of the Drakes. I saw you guys at

  the Manatee benefit yesterday. Did you have fun?”

  “It was a blast,” Bess said. “Really good shrimp

  cocktail!”

  “We saw you there, too,” Nancy said to Griffin.

  “Who was your friend?” she added.

  Griffin looked confused. “Friend? What friend?”

  “The blond woman,” Nancy said. “You know, long

  purple dress?”

  Griffin shrugged and shook his head. “I'm not sure

  who you're talking about. I was there alone. Maybe it

  was just some stranger I was talking to. I don't know.”

  He scooted his chair back and stood up. “Listen, I

  really do have to run. So if you don't have any more

  questions . . .”

  “If I think of anything else, I know where to find

  you,” Nancy said with a smile.

  Griffin smiled back. Then he waved goodbye and

  headed for the exit.

  After he left, Nancy turned to her friends. “I don't

  think Griffin was completely honest with us,” she said.

  “That blond woman wasn't just some stranger he ran

  into. I wonder what he's hiding?”

  Susan frowned. “Blond woman—blond woman—

  you know, I saw Griffin with her, too. You said she was

  wearing a long purple dress, right?”

  Nancy nodded. “Right.”

  “And she had a purple cell phone,” Susan went on,

  taking a sip of her iced tea. “I remember her phone

  because it was so cool-looking.”

  Nancy started. “Purple cell phone? Are you sure?”

  “Yes, definitely,” Susan replied. “Why?”

  Nancy remembered the woman at the Café Blue