Intruder!

by Carolyn Keene

  “This guy is pretty bold, breaking in during the daytime like this,” Mr. Olsen said.

  “Yes,” I agreed. “He’s either very foolish or very desperate. With this storm raging, he must have known everyone would be in the house. That increases his chances of being seen or even caught.”

  On the second and third floors, Mr. Olsen showed me where the dumbwaiter was located. I looked around for evidence of muddy footprints, but I didn’t find anything.

  “So, the prowler had been in the house long before the storm started, and that’s why he didn’t leave any muddy footprints,” I said, thinking out loud. But did the trespasser intentionally or unintentionally scare Emily? I wondered.

  I poked my head into all the empty bedrooms upstairs and thought what a perfect place this would be to spend a leisurely weekend—with breakfast in bed. It was also the perfect place for a sneaky intruder to play hide-and-seek.

  “Where does this staircase go?” I asked. I aimed my flashlight down another flight of stairs at the opposite end of the corridor.

  “These are the back stairs,” Mr. Olsen explained. “It’s a shortcut to the kitchen. You don’t go through the entrance hall and parlor this way.”

  “We might as well rejoin the others,” I said with a short sigh. “There’s just so much I can see and do without lights.”

  “Can you come back tomorrow, Nancy?” Mr. Olsen asked. “I’m hoping the sun will be out, and you can look around all you want. You can check out the basement and the grounds then too,” he added. “Let’s go down this way.”

  He pointed the bright beam of his large flashlight at the steps before us and took a step down. Aiming my smaller beam at his feet and ankles, I started down the stairs behind him. Suddenly I caught the gleam of something on the stairs in front of Mr. Olsen. My heart skipped a beat, and I grabbed him by the sleeve of his sweater.

  “Stop, Mr. Olsen!” I cried, nearly choking out the words. “Don’t take another step!”

  4

  Scone sand Schemes

  Mr. Olsen immediately froze right where he was. “What is it, Nancy?” he asked hoarsely.

  “Look there,” I said. “The fifth step down.” I wiggled the beam of my flashlight around his shoulder and down the staircase so he would see what I was looking at. “Do you see that?”

  He peered carefully downward and then gasped as he saw the thin wire drawn taut across the stairs.

  “If you’d come down a few steps more, you’d have tripped down the stairs,” I said.

  “I might have broken my neck!” Mr. Olsen declared angrily.

  Stepping carefully past him down the stairs, I knelt down to examine the wire more closely.

  “Look—it’s been fastened to the side of the staircase with thumbtacks,” I said. “A booby trap?” Mr. Olsen gasped.

  “It looks like it,” I told him, getting to my feet. I could feel my temper rising. Who would be so cruel?

  “You probably saved my life, Nancy,” Mr. Olsen said then. “I’m more grateful than you realize.”

  I blushed. As I said before, praise always makes me feel self-conscious. “Well, at least I prevented you from having a nasty fall, Mr. Olsen. I’m beginning to think that the vandal—or vandals—wants you and your wife to leave Cardinal Corners.”

  Mr. Olsen nodded. “Well, I’ve thought so all along but didn’t want to contradict Mrs. Fayne and Mrs. Mahoney. Still,” he added, tapping his chin pensively, “if there was a mishap like this on Saturday, it could mean a serious lawsuit. And besides that, I wouldn’t like to see anyone get hurt.”

  By the time we returned to the kitchen, George had the electricity on again. “Someone tampered with the fuse box, Nancy,” she told me. “It’s an old-fashioned kind, and the round fuses had been unscrewed. I doubt that a ghost did it.”

  I agreed. “Does Juan Tabo have any reason to have a grudge against you?” I asked the Olsens. “What about other B and B owners in the vicinity?”

  The Olsens shook their heads. When I showed Mrs. Olsen what I’d found on the staircase, she frowned with concern and immediately suggested that the tea party be postponed. “I don’t want anyone to get hurt on our opening day of business,” she said. “We can reschedule the event after Nancy finds the culprit.”

  Glancing out the window, I could see the rain continue to pour. I sighed heavily. Postponing the event was the last thing I wanted to do. Mrs. Fayne and the other committee members had done a lot of preparation and spent a lot of money on advertising. Besides, everyone was looking forward to it.

  “Nancy has already figured out that there’s no ghost,” Mr. Olsen remarked. “I think we should give her another day or two at least to get to the bottom of this. She hasn’t even had time to search the basement or walk around the yard.”

  “I agree with your husband,” George told Mrs. Olsen. “Give Nancy another day or two. She’ll solve the case. Trust me. There’s no mystery too perplexing for Nancy Drew.”

  Mrs. Olsen was convinced by George’s praise and my promise to return the next day. George and I stayed another hour looking around the house. I recommended a security firm that could quickly put in burglar alarms, and Mr. Olsen called to ask about installation. By then it was almost dinnertime. Mrs. Olsen graciously invited George and me to stay for pot roast, but we politely declined and promised to return the next day.

  “The wire over the staircase—that is far worse than shattering teapots,” George said as I drove her home. “Are you going to tell the committee what happened?”

  “I don’t know,” I said, chewing my bottom lip. “Ms. Waters is already convinced the tea party should be canceled. I think this would cinch it for her. Are you going to tell your mom?”

  “I don’t know,” George said. “She’s already so worried.”

  Merging onto the highway, I got a quick glance at a tow truck on the side of the road and wondered if it was the one that belonged to my friend Charlie Adams. He’s the AAA guy and has come to my rescue more than once when I’ve locked my keys in the car or needed a jump. He liked this sort of weather, he’d once told me. People drove too fast, and as a result they often drove off the road, into the nearest ditch. Drivers’ carelessness was good for business, Charlie had explained.

  “Let me talk to my dad first,” I said. “I’ll tell him everything that’s been going on and get his opinion about what we should do. And then I’ll call you, okay?”

  George nodded. Like me, she trusted my dad to give valuable advice. He isn’t the most successful attorney in River Heights for nothing. I dropped George off, and by the time I reached my own home, I was starving and ready for a hot shower. I decided on the shower first.

  Afterward Hannah had homemade clam chowder and fresh cheese biscuits waiting in the kitchen. She fussed over me until I sat down at the kitchen table and began eating. She said that my dad had already eaten and was working in his study. As I buttered a biscuit, I briefly told her about the committee’s concerns and my escapades at the Olsens’.

  “And now I’m so hungry I think I could eat three bowls of chowder,” I declared, digging in.

  Hannah beamed at me. She loves to see me eat. “Of course you’re hungry!” she insisted. “What with ghosts and thunderstorms and all sorts of shenanigans going on at the old Rappapport place, you must be famished.”

  “What’s all this about ghosts?” my dad asked, strolling into the kitchen. He was wearing jeans and a sweater and had a law book in one hand and his reading glasses in the other.

  I smiled at him and repeated everything that I’d just told Hannah. I also told him about the discussion at Mrs. Fayne’s earlier that day. Dad listened carefully. Occasionally he frowned. When I showed him the two thumbtacks and length of thin wire I had in my purse, his frown deepened.

  “I don’t like it, Nancy,” he said. “This sort of thing is more than just an adolescent prank. Someone intended to commit bodily harm.”

  “I know,” I said. “Mrs. Fayne thinks someone is trying to s
abotage Saturday’s fund-raiser, but the Olsens are afraid someone is trying to keep their bed-and-breakfast from opening on time. After this incident on the staircase, I think they may be right.”

  I ate another spoonful of chowder and added, “Of course, their maid thinks the house is haunted. She insists that a ghost is responsible for all that’s happened.” I smiled and shrugged. “But I’ve never heard of a ghost tampering with a fuse box.”

  “The old Rappapport place was never haunted before,” Hannah said dismissively. “Who is the maid?”

  “A woman named Emily Spradling,” I told her.

  “Emily Spradling!” Hannah declared. “She’s a silly creature—and she’s got four silly sisters, too. They take after their mother—very superstitious and timid,” she added knowingly. “If they’d lived in Jane Austen’s day, they’d be the swooning type.”

  I chuckled. I could easily imagine Emily fainting and falling to the floor in a heap.

  “Nancy, the ghost stories aside, this could be a very dangerous case,” my dad put in. “There might be a real criminal behind all this. I want you to be careful.”

  I nodded and helped myself to another warm biscuit. “This case is pretty perplexing,” I said. “Why run the Olsens out of business—if that’s the motive behind the pranks? And are Emily or Juan involved?”

  “You’ve solved tougher mysteries than this one,” my dad said with a smile.

  I appreciated my dad’s confidence in me, but something was worrying me, too. “So, Dad, do you think I should tell the planning committee about the staircase incident? I’m afraid if I do, they will cancel the event. On the other hand, if I don’t and someone gets hurt on Saturday, I’d never forgive myself.”

  “I think you’re obligated to tell both Mrs. Fayne and Mrs. Mahoney what happened this afternoon,” my dad said. “I think Chief McGinnis should be informed as well. And I want you to promise that you won’t go to Cardinal Corners alone,” he added, placing his hand on my shoulder.

  “George and I are going back there tomorrow afternoon,” I told him. “I’ll be careful. I promise.”

  “Do you think the committee will cancel the tea?” Hannah asked, wiping her hands on a dish towel.

  “I don’t really know,” I confessed.

  “I hope not,” Hannah said. “I’ve been looking forward to it. And I volunteered to be in charge of door prizes, you know.”

  I nodded. If I didn’t solve the mystery soon and the committee canceled the tea party, there’d be a lot of disappointed library patrons in River Heights. The pressure was on!

  I discussed a few more things with Dad, and when he returned to his study, I enjoyed a slice of Hannah’s homemade carrot cake with thick cream cheese frosting. Then I called George and told her to tell her mother everything that had happened. I could tell she was relieved.

  “Let’s have lunch tomorrow with Bess after our dress fitting. Then we can all go out to Cardinal Corners,” I suggested.

  George eagerly agreed to the plan, and after saying good night, I called Mrs. Mahoney. I told her everything that had happened. She was shocked.

  “Nancy, thank heavens you’re all right!” she declared. “And poor Karl Olsen—he could have broken his neck!”

  Outraged, she rattled on a bit about how important it was for me to stay on task and bring the culprit to justice.

  Finally I interrupted her. “Are you going to cancel Saturday’s tea, Mrs. Mahoney?” I asked. “Mrs. Olsen thinks it would be a good idea to at least postpone it until we catch the vandal.”

  After a long silence, Mrs. Mahoney replied. “I want to give you two more days, Nancy. If anyone can get to the bottom of this, it’s you. I’m counting on you, Nancy.” I sensed the urgency in her voice.

  “I’ll do my best, Mrs. Mahoney,” I said. “I’m going back out there tomorrow to have another look around.”

  Later, when I crawled into bed, I realized that I had mixed feelings about Mrs. Mahoney’s decision not to cancel the tea. Part of me was relieved. I wanted to wrap things up before Saturday. Another part of me was really worried. What if I didn’t catch the culprit and someone got hurt?

  I lay there restless for a long time. It seemed like I had just slipped into a sound sleep when the jangling of the phone on the nightstand by my bed woke me up.

  “Hello?” I mumbled, brushing the hair from my eyes.

  “Nancy Drew?” The voice was muffled.

  “Yes, this is Nancy Drew,” I said, propping myself up on my elbow.

  “Stay away from Cardinal Corners,” the voice growled, “or you’ll be sorry!”

  5

  Tea for Two

  Now I was definitely awake. “Who is this?” I demanded.

  There was a click and a dial tone. The caller had hung up. The phone on my night table didn’t have caller ID, so I quickly pressed *69 to find out the caller’s number. Unfortunately I had no luck that way, either. The guy who’d given me the threatening wake-up call must have been using a pay phone or phone card.

  I was wide awake and my blood was pumping fiercely through my veins. What a way to start the day, I thought as I tumbled out of bed. I smelled the delicious aroma of French toast, bacon, and coffee coming from downstairs, and dressed quickly—in my oldest jeans. I knew I’d be exploring the Olsens’ cellar and I might have to do it on my hands and knees. Hurrying to the kitchen, I gave Hannah a quick hug as I took my place at the breakfast table.

  “Hmm, smells wonderful. Where’s Dad?” I asked, pouring myself some orange juice.

  “He ate bright and early and went straight to the office. Working on a big case,” Hannah said, bringing coffee to the table. “But he said if you needed him for anything, don’t hesitate to call. He also said to remind you to be careful,” Hannah added.

  “I will be,” I promised. “I’ve got a busy day ahead of me, and it started off with a bang, too,” I added, helping myself to the bacon.

  When Hannah asked me what I meant, I told her about the phone call.

  “Oh, Nancy,” Hannah said, horrified. “This is getting more dangerous all the time! I’m sorry I didn’t hear the phone ring. I must have been outside bringing in the newspaper from the porch. What are you going to do?”

  “Exactly what I planned for today,” I told her. “I’m going to see Chief McGinnis at the police station. I also have a fitting at Julia Jute’s for my tea party costume, and then I’m having lunch with George and Bess,” I told her. “After that, I’m going back out to Cardinal Corners.”

  “But not by yourself, I hope,” Hannah said.

  I shook my head. I’d promised my dad I wouldn’t go out there alone, and I always keep my promises. “Mrs. Mahoney is counting on me to solve this mystery by tomorrow so she won’t have to cancel the tea,” I said. “There’s no time to lose.”

  “A cancellation would disappoint so many people,” Hannah agreed. “But don’t take any chances. The committee can always postpone the event for another time—after all this is cleared up.”

  As soon as I’d finished my breakfast, I left for the police station. Driving down the street, I was delighted to see how sunny it was. The sky was blue; the trees were in full bloom. Except for an occasional puddle, you’d never guess there’d been a total downpour the day before.

  “Sure hope the sun keeps shining,” I muttered to myself. I had lots to do today and wanted the weather to cooperate.

  My first stop was the River Heights Police Department. Chief McGinnis was standing in the corridor talking to some patrolmen when I walked in. He saw me immediately, straightened up, and sauntered over.

  “Nancy Drew!” he exclaimed. “I guessed you’d be paying me a visit. No doubt you’re looking into the teapot scandal.” He chuckled and folded his arms across his chest.

  “Teapot scandal?” I said, raising my eyebrows. “You mean the act of vandalism that took place at Cardinal Corners?” I wanted him to know I took my cases seriously, even if he didn’t.

  The smirk slipped fro
m his face and he said, “I’m afraid I can’t help you. We’ve got no leads, no eyewitnesses, and no signs of breaking and entering. Nothing.”

  I nodded and bit my bottom lip. I’d expected as much.

  “It’s really out of my hands until the Olsens file charges, and then they’re going to have to file charges against someone in particular,” the chief went on. “Do you have anything you want to tell me?” He looked at me rather suspiciously.

  “Actually I do.” I retrieved the wire and thumb-tacks from my purse and told him what had happened yesterday afternoon at the B and B. When I told him that Mr. Olsen could have tripped down the stairs and been seriously hurt, he cleared his throat nervously.

  “This looks like the work of a pro,” he said. “Perhaps I should send a squad car out there.”

  “That’s a good idea,” I told him. “I’m expecting something else to happen … maybe even today.”

  “Why?” he asked, glaring at me.

  I told him about my threatening phone call early that morning and that the fund-raising committee was counting on me to get to the bottom of the mystery before Saturday.

  “I’m working under a bit of a time crunch,” I said. “I also promised my father I’d take every precaution. It would be a relief to see a police car patrolling the area, Chief McGinnis. I think the Olsens would feel safer too. If I turn up any clues this afternoon, I’ll definitely let you know,” I promised.

  Chief McGinnis only grunted, but he seemed to relax a little and promised to send out that police car to the Olsens’ right away. Good thing I mentioned my dad, I thought. Everyone knew and respected him, including the police.

  “It would be a shame if the committee decided to cancel the fund-raiser,” I went on. “So many people in River Heights are looking forward to it. It’s a benefit for the library, you know.”

  “Sure,” he said. “I heard about it.” He shifted from one foot to another. He seemed uncomfortable.