Mystery by Moonlight

by Carolyn Keene

  “They’re from Mike Malone to his fiancée, Nellie. I thought you’d be interested in them for your work.”

  Emily gave an embarrassed laugh. “Oh—of course.” She paused and asked, “You’ve read them?”

  “You bet I have. They’re partly love letters, but what should interest you more is how they detail the inside workings of the mob at that time. I bet if you ask Jennifer and Jason, they’ll let you copy them to use in your film.”

  “That’s a great idea,” Emily said.

  “Anyway, I think whoever stole the boathouse plans was after these too,” Nancy explained.

  “What makes you say that?”

  “Well, although everything else in the old trunks and suitcases we found was in very good order—the blouses were still packed away with old tissue paper between them—these letters had been disturbed. The bow was untied, and a group of letters was missing.”

  “How could you possibly tell that letters were missing?” Emily asked.

  Nancy explained about how she arranged them and discovered a two-week break in correspondence.

  “But maybe they’ve been missing a long time, Nancy. You said these were love letters. Maybe a few got too personal. Maybe Nellie destroyed them.”

  “I hadn’t thought of that,” Nancy admitted. Emily had a point, but that didn’t explain why someone was rooting around the crawl space in the middle of the night. Or why he or she made sure to trap Nancy inside. Then she remembered what else she wanted to ask Emily. “Last night, you said you didn’t know much about Mike Malone, but I was wondering—did he ever marry this Nellie person?”

  “Absolutely!”

  Her answer was so sure and definite, Nancy was taken aback. “I thought you didn’t know much about him.”

  Emily bit her lip and laughed. “I didn’t. Ravi really embarrassed me last night. So I hit the Internet today and did some research. I guess that fact stood out. Goons like Malone usually had a string of hanger-on girlfriends; their molls. But Malone seemed to have found the woman of his dreams. They got married just before he was busted.”

  Nancy was glad to hear that. His letters to Nellie were surprisingly tender. Reading them, it had been hard to remember he was a cold-blooded killer.

  “Excuse me, ladies.” One of the workmen poked his head in the door. He stared at Nancy a moment, then at Emily. “I’m leaving for the day.”

  “Were you able to find some suitable stones to patch up that corner of the boathouse?” Emily asked.

  “Yep, that we did. Like you said, there were plenty that were just the right size in the old stone wall at the back of your property. We’ll haul them out early tomorrow morning, if that’s okay with you.”

  “Sounds great,” Emily said. “See you later, Kevin.”

  “Sure thing,” he said, turning to go. At the door he turned. “By the way, was that Indian guy hassling you again? He was skulking around the boathouse earlier.”

  “You mean Jim?” Nancy asked, curious.

  Kevin gave Emily a knowing look. “Emily knows who I mean; the guy who’s asking for trouble and who’s going to get it.”

  12

  Shadows in the Moonlight

  Jim? Instantly, Nancy tried to remember Jim’s hands. Were they calloused? She hadn’t noticed them before.

  “I didn’t see him,” Emily said, “but maybe Nancy did. Maybe it was someone else who’s the same height as Jim.”

  Kevin shook his head. “Nope. It was that crazy activist. Believe me, I’d recognize him from ten miles away . . . aw, well, maybe not quite.” Tugging at the bill of his cap, Kevin went to the door. “Just thought you should know, Emily.”

  Kevin had barely walked out the door when Emily slapped her forehead. “Sorry, but all this commotion got me scrambled—I have to pay the guys!” She started to leave, then turned to Nancy. “You okay now? If you wait, I’ll walk you home.”

  “I’m fine. Nothing an aspirin won’t cure. But maybe you should warn Kevin about the missing plans. Doesn’t he need them for his work?”

  “I didn’t think of that,” Emily gasped. “I’d better go tell him about the plans now, before he and Dale split.”

  Nancy left the boathouse with Emily, then headed back toward the cottage. Why would Jim want to burgle the boathouse? Then she remembered him hanging around outside the Historical Society library, listening to her talk about the missing plans.

  She kicked slowly through the grass, and tried to recall those ballpoint pen markings on the old drawings. Were they related to Jim’s locator markers back on the post-flood diorama? Nancy couldn’t remember enough about the pen marks to even hazard a guess.

  Maybe the old plans would bolster his argument about the moral obligation of contemporary north shore landowners to help preserve some of the native lands—though frankly, Nancy couldn’t imagine how.

  “NANCEEEEEEE!” The shout rang out from the direction of the lake.

  Nancy turned. She spotted George and Ned in the Faynes’ canoe, and saw Bess with Ravi in one of Emily’s rowboats. They were paddling toward shore at a furious pace.

  Had something bad happened?

  As they drew closer to shore, Nancy could see everyone was smiling. George and Ned reached the Faynes’ dock first, while Ravi rowed toward Emily’s short pier. As Ned tied up the canoe, George jogged up to Nancy. She wore a loose striped shirt over her swimsuit. “You won’t believe it. We found the absolute best place in the world for a sunset picnic!”

  “Out on that island, Nan,” Ned said. “There’s even a barbecue setup. Apparently, it’s part of the state park. There are hiking trails and the best view of the lake. Bess and George decided it would be the perfect dinner spot.”

  Nancy lit up. “That sounds like fun.”

  “Why don’t you change into your bathing suit?” Ned suggested as Bess trudged toward them from the direction of Emily’s lawn. She waved good-bye to Ravi and shouted over her shoulder, “See you later, right?”

  Ravi gave her a thumbs-up sign. “Wouldn’t miss it.”

  “Bess is once again smitten—except she hasn’t been able to figure out the story between Ravi and Emily,” George whispered. Nancy had to smile.

  “So what do we do about food?” Nancy asked as they trooped together up the back steps.

  “We’ve got tons of stuff—hot dogs, buns, chips, you name it. We’ll pack it up while you change,” George promised. Within the hour, they were back in their boats and headed for the island.

  The only disappointment was Ravi. Emily came alone, rowing over with Bess, and bringing her own modest stash of picnic treats.

  “So why couldn’t Ravi make it?” Nancy asked as she threw some hot dogs on the grill.

  “It’s the wildest thing,” Emily said. “I happened to tell Dale about Ravi’s project, since Dale’s kind of into the drowned-valley-ghost thing himself,” she added with a tolerant laugh. “Anyway, turns out Dale knows about this elderly woman—she might even be close to a hundred years old—who lives in a town about fifty miles from here. She knows a ton about the history of this place. Ravi found her number, and she said she’d be happy to talk to him, if he could visit before nine tomorrow morning. So he’s going to drive down there, stay at a motel, and visit her. He felt he couldn’t pass that up.”

  While George and the others manned the grill, Nancy took the opportunity to take a walk with Ned. They chose a trail that wound up toward the high point of the small island. It was a low windswept hill. On top there were remains of many bonfires. Nancy and Ned sat down to enjoy the view. They propped their backs against a large rock and watched the sun swing low over the western horizon.

  “So what happened today in town?” Ned asked. “We haven’t had a chance to catch up.”

  Nancy put her thoughts together and told Ned about the two dioramas, the map locator tacks, and her visit with Karen and their search of the Historical Society library.

  “What was Emily’s reaction when you told her about the plans and the
letters?” Ned asked.

  “Well, that all got pretty complicated,” Nancy said, and she related the story about being attacked in the boathouse.

  “This is getting serious,” Ned said firmly. “Maybe we should call in the cops.”

  “To report that a plan was stolen?” Nancy shook her head.

  “Yes,” Ned insisted. “Especially since whatever this burglar is up to is escalating. Last night he locked you in the attic. Today, he attacked you.”

  “But is it the same person, Ned? I can’t figure out the connection between the letters and the plans—but I am positive there is one, no matter what Emily says.”

  “Maybe the cottage burglar was looking for something else,” Ned suggested.

  “That’s what I keep thinking. Maybe the plans? But they were right there in Emily’s house all along. And for the past few weeks at least, they’ve been in her boathouse to help her work crew.” Then suddenly, the pieces of the puzzle seemed to fall into place for Nancy. She grabbed Ned’s arm. “Because until today no one knew they were there!”

  “So who just found out?”

  Nancy took a deep breath. “Jim. He overheard me talking with Karen about the boathouse and the missing plans.”

  Ned whistled under his breath, then regarded Nancy carefully. “But why, Nan? What’s in it for him? I mean, plans for a boathouse?”

  “That’s what’s bothering me—motive. Jim’s got to have a pretty strong one to start breaking the law, particularly when he’s been spearheading a Native American rights campaign around here.” Nancy paused. “But one of Emily’s workmen saw Jim hanging around the boathouse this afternoon.”

  Ned looked sharply at Nancy. “What a creep that guy is.”

  “I guess so.” Something inside Nancy wasn’t convinced, but the facts certainly did point to Jim.

  Just then George called them to join the picnic.

  “Ned, please don’t tell everyone else about this just yet. Not until I’m sure,” Nancy said as they descended the hill, hand in hand.

  “Okay,” Ned promised reluctantly. “But it’s going to be hard not to give Jim a taste of his own medicine if I catch him lurking around again.”

  After doing justice to the hot dogs, chips, and Emily’s salad, the friends built a bonfire on the beach and began making s’mores under the light of a full moon. Just outside the ring of fire, the air had a crisp early autumn feel to it. Nancy pulled on a gray hooded sweatshirt.

  “So I guess Nancy didn’t tell you about what we saw up on the hill, Bess,” Ned said, gingerly plucking a sticky marshmallow off his stick.

  “No. I thought maybe you were watching the sunset.”

  “That too, Bess,” Nancy said, her eyes sparkling. She had a feeling she knew what Ned was up to.

  “But just after sunset, we saw these strange lights, flickering far, far out across the lake, and then there was this cry—it was thin and distant, like a wail—and all at once, the lights went out!” Ned intoned in a spooky voice.

  Bess shuddered and wrapped her arms around herself. She was snuggled in her oversized pink cotton sweater. She looked out over the lake toward shore and suddenly screamed. “Look! Your lights. They’re back again!”

  Ned started to laugh, but Nancy jumped up and pulled out her binoculars. Sure enough, Bess was right. There really was one light, and a low, droning sound coming from the shadowy form of a flat-bottomed boat pulling right into Emily’s dock. Nancy’s binoculars weren’t geared for the dark, but her vision was keen. Moonlight flickered around the dark shadow on the lake, and she thought she saw the outline of two figures. The engine cut off, and the boat drifted into deep shadow. For a moment, Nancy wasn’t sure her eyes hadn’t been playing tricks on her. But a moment later, the boat moved stealthily away from the dock in the direction of the inlet on the other side of Camp Moonlight.

  “Emily,” Nancy gasped and pulled the woman to her feet. Emily resisted slightly, but in seconds, Nancy was bringing her down to the shoreline. “Come here. Someone’s broken into your boathouse again! Look, that boat just pulled up to your pier. Someone went into your boathouse, and is leaving now.” Even as she spoke, the boat drifted into the shadows near the shore. Then suddenly the engine started up again, and the boat disappeared around the strip of land, out of view of the island.

  Nancy turned toward Emily. Instead of looking at the island, she was staring at Nancy. In the dim light of the bonfire behind them, Nancy couldn’t quite read her expression.

  “Emily, didn’t you see that? Someone broke into your boathouse again. Whoever attacked me this afternoon came back!”

  “I-I didn’t see, but I believe you.” Emily’s reaction was delayed. She leaned in to Nancy. “What’s happening here? Why is everyone against my being here?”

  “What’s going on?” George said, offering them each some s’mores.

  “Nancy saw a boat out there. At first I thought it was just a figment of Bess’s imagination, thanks to Ned,” Emily said. “But then I did see something, or at least hear something.”

  “It was probably those crazy bird watching folks. Bet they saw some rare night-fishing bird, and tracked it to your boathouse. You better hope it doesn’t nest there, or they’ll try to stop your renovations,” George warned with a smile.

  Nancy frowned. “That’s possible.” She hadn’t mentioned the robbery of the plans yet to her friends, and she hoped Emily wouldn’t now.

  “Maybe we’d better tramp down the fire and go back now,” Nancy suggested, turning toward Emily.

  “Uh—sure. That’s a good idea. Though I bet George is right. A lot of birds nest over in that inlet, and the boat was headed in that direction.”

  After packing up and making sure that their barbecue fire had died down and the bonfire was completely out, they headed straight for shore. Nancy suggested they all go to the cottage first and unpack the food; then, she’d help Emily carry the light metal rowboat back to the main house.

  Twenty minutes later, Nancy and Emily propped the rowboat against the side of the boathouse. “We can leave it here for the night,” Emily suggested.

  “I don’t think so,” Nancy said, wondering where Emily’s head was. “You’ve been burgled at least once today. Someone could just make off with the boat.”

  “I doubt anyone’s after my boat,” Emily said with a shrug. “But you’ve got a point.” She went to the shed and pulled out a large electric lantern. “Hold this,” she told Nancy as she easily opened the boathouse door and propped the boat inside. Nancy peered over Emily’s shoulder through the open door. “Is anything missing?”

  “Not that I can tell. Of course, if someone ripped off one of the small tools, I wouldn’t notice until the next time I needed it.”

  Emily simply closed the boathouse door behind her. “Aren’t you going to lock it?” Nancy asked.

  “The lock’s been missing since yesterday. I misplaced it, and I haven’t had a chance to get another,” Emily explained. “Now, Nancy, don’t look at me that way. I’m under a lot of pressure around here these days, and I can’t remember everything. I’ll get one tomorrow, I promise.”

  “Should I walk you back to the house?” Nancy offered.

  Emily looked at her as if she’d grown two heads. “No way. If it’s safe enough for you to walk home alone, it’s safe enough for me. If someone was prowling around here, they’re long gone.”

  “Okay. Take care!” Nancy said, then headed back past the dock. The moonlight was bright enough to making the going easy. She was almost past the dock when she noticed a pair of wet footprints leading up the sand and onto the dock. They were large and heavy, and were definitely made by a man wearing muddy work boots.

  “So I was right!” she whispered to herself. Nancy bent down to examine the prints. One set traveled up from the shoreline, onto the dock, then into the grass. But it was obvious that whoever had come to shore had gone into the boathouse. She was about to continue around to the side of the boathouse to see if the prints i
ndeed ended at the door, when she heard the low hum of a motor and the sound of muffled voices.

  Nancy ducked behind a bush. She spotted two people in the boat. From her angle she couldn’t tell if they were both male or not. Was it Caspar and Millicent, or someone else? The people kept talking and pointed over toward Emily’s house. Nancy’s heart stopped. Emily was in danger.

  Before she could process that thought, she heard a rustling in the brush behind her. She spun around. It was Jim. His hair was wet, and he had a hunting knife in one hand—aimed directly at her.

  13

  Drowning in Moonlight

  Nancy’s reaction was immediate. She aimed a high karate kick at Jim’s arm. The knife flew out of his hand, but he neatly sidestepped the blow.

  He’s trained in martial arts! Nancy realized, quickly moving out of his reach—but she was not fast enough. Jim reached out. As his hand gripped her wrist, she felt his calloused fingers.

  “Hey!” he shouted. His cry rang out. Someone cursed loudly in the boat just offshore.

  The curse distracted Jim, and Nancy wrenched free of his grasp. She spotted the knife gleaming in the damp grass and kicked it into the bushes, out of reach.

  Jim glared at her. “What did you do that for?”

  “You’re kidding, right?” Nancy stared at him in disbelief. “You just tried to attack me.”

  “I wasn’t attacking you! I was keeping you from getting into some big trouble here. Weird stuffs been happening around here at night, in case you haven’t noticed.” The words were no sooner out of Jim’s mouth than an outboard motor roared into life. The mystery boat took off across the lake.

  Instinctively, Nancy turned at the sound. Through a break in the trees, she saw a small, flat-bottomed boat head out into the middle of the lake and vanish in the shadows. When she turned again, Jim was gone. He had disappeared into the brush.

  A shiver ran down Nancy’s spine. The guy moved as quietly as a cat. She decided to go right to Emily’s to warn her about Jim. But before she headed up to the main house, she pulled out her penlight and searched the bushes for Jim’s knife. It was gone. He had somehow managed to retrieve it when her back was turned. Great, she thought, he’s armed!