“So there’s nothing keeping you here, then?” Nancy asked.
Julie focused on her sculpture for a moment, then looked at Nancy with clear gray eyes. “I try not to get tied down to anybody or anything,” she said lightly. “Life’s easier that way.”
“Uh-huh . . .” Nancy pretended to look at a copper candlestick, but she was actually studying Julie out of the corner of her eye. Julie was doing a good job of covering up her hurt feelings. Then again, she didn’t know Nancy, so there was no reason for her to reveal anything personal.
“What brings you to Moon Lake?” Julie asked. “It’s not exactly the peak of the summer season.”
“I’m, uh, helping out at the inn,” Nancy said vaguely. “There’s a renovation going on.”
Instantly Julie’s eyes grew hard. “I know all about it,” she snapped. “Boy, I just can’t stand hearing about that old place.”
“Why not?” Nancy inquired.
Julie stabbed the clay bird with her wooden stick. “Let’s put it this way,” she said in an ice-cold voice. “I hope that old dump burns to the ground!”
Chapter
Five
JULIE’S GRAY EYES flashed angrily for a moment. Then, as if she were embarrassed at her outburst, she stared down at her sculpture.
“What do you have against the inn?” Nancy asked.
Julie opened her mouth to answer, but she was interrupted by the tinkling of the bell at the door.
An older woman with fluffy white hair entered and asked, “I’m looking for a rag doll for my granddaughter. Could you show me what you have?”
“I’ve got to help this customer,” Julie told Nancy in a quiet voice. She disappeared through a door in the back, then reemerged a minute later with clean hands and went over to the older woman.
Nancy waited to question Julie, but after the older woman left, a young couple came in. Then a plump middle-aged woman emerged from the back of the store, holding out a cardboard box.
“Julie! Beverly Brandt’s order finally came in,” the plump woman said. “I want you to deliver it for me.”
There was no point in sticking around, Nancy realized. She would have to come back later to question Julie further. Nancy decided to take the road this time, but the walk back to the inn still took only a few minutes. There was no question Julie could come and go quickly.
As Nancy headed up the curved driveway, she saw that a long black limousine with tinted windows was parked right in front of the entrance. The license plate read LOCKWD-1. This had to be Andrew’s father’s car.
The second Nancy entered the inn, she heard a loud, harsh voice fill the lobby.
“You’re a disgrace!” the man’s voice yelled. “I trusted you with this job, and what do I find when I get here? Utter chaos!”
“We’ve had some problems. . . .” Andrew’s voice was barely audible.
“Don’t give me excuses!” the man yelled. “Give me solutions! If you weren’t my son, I’d fire you!”
Nancy wished she weren’t overhearing the conversation. As she quickly crossed the lobby, she glanced into Andrew’s office and saw a tall, robust man with steel gray hair slicked straight back. He had a strong profile and was dressed in an expensive-looking charcoal gray suit.
“What’s that?” Andrew’s father demanded as Andrew mumbled something under his breath.
“Nothing,” Andrew said.
Not wanting to embarrass Andrew, Nancy stepped quietly over to the hallway that led to the dining room and ballroom. Behind her she could still hear Mr. Lockwood’s angry voice.
“Don’t think you’re getting out of this,” he thundered. “I gave you this job to teach you responsibility. How can I trust you with the rest of my properties if you can’t get this right?”
“Maybe if I had a little more money . . .”
“Oh, no,” Mr. Lockwood said. “You got yourself into this mess. You’ll have to figure a way out on your own.”
Shaking her head, Nancy hurried away from the voices. Now that she had seen Mr. Lockwood in action, she understood why Andrew was so scared of him. Anyone would be. She couldn’t help feeling sorry for Andrew.
Ahead of Nancy loud rock music was once again blaring from the ballroom. When she got there, she saw that Bess had kept her promise. She wasn’t just keeping an eye on Blaster, she was dancing with him!
Blaster was holding Bess’s hands and demonstrating some complicated moves while Bess tried to follow. Bess glowed as she gazed at Blaster, while Natalia and several other teens stood nearby, shouting encouragement.
Uh-oh, Nancy thought to herself. Bess wasn’t going to be a very objective observer of the deejay. And if he was the person behind all the trouble, Bess might even be in danger.
“Hey!” Andrew shouted, appearing behind Nancy in the door to the ballroom. Apparently, his father had left. “What do you think you’re doing?”
Bess guiltily dropped Blaster’s hands, and the deejay said, “We’re just taking a little break.”
“Looks like you’re goofing off to me,” Andrew said. “Aren’t you supposed to be helping Eddie?”
“You got that right!” called a voice from up in the balcony. “Get up here, Blaster. I need you to help me test the master light switch.”
Nancy looked up and saw a wiry man in coveralls with straight black hair. Ned was also up in the balcony, removing the rickety-looking guardrail. “Don’t get too close to the edge, Eddie,” Ned warned. “I haven’t put up the new railing yet.”
“I’ll come help you with that, Ned,” Andrew said. He followed Blaster toward the door in the wall that led to the back hall and balcony stairs.
Taking Bess aside, Nancy said in a low voice, “Bess, I need to talk to you about Blaster. I know he’s cute—”
“Adorable,” Bess cut in, grinning.
“But he may also be very dangerous,” Nancy went on.
Bess’s eyes turned serious. “I hear what you’re saying, Nancy, but I honestly don’t think Blaster’s guilty. I can feel it.”
“I’m not putting down your instincts,” Nancy said. “I’m just saying we don’t have enough information about him yet to come to any conclusions. So be careful around him, okay?”
Bess didn’t look convinced, but she nodded.
“Good,” Nancy said. “Now, let’s go to the basement. I want to check out the stuff the homeless person left behind.”
When they got to the bottom of the stairs, Nancy was amazed at how much cleaner the basement looked than it had earlier. Several wide, clean paths had been cleared through the burnt, broken furniture. Colleen Morgan knelt on the bare earth floor, stacking old newspapers in a cardboard box.
“Are you working here all by yourself?” Nancy asked as she and Bess went over to Colleen.
Colleen looked up and brushed a strand of red hair out of her eyes. “Hmm?” she said distractedly. “Oh, no, not really. I’ve got some of the kids helping me, but I sent them upstairs for a break. They’ve been hauling all morning.”
“But you’re still working,” Nancy observed. “That’s real dedication.”
Colleen barely looked up as she kept going through the yellowing stacks of newspapers. “I’m just happy to help out.”
“Wouldn’t you rather be doing something more glamorous than cleaning out a dirty basement?” Bess asked. “I know I would if I were you.”
Looking up with a smile, Colleen said, “Believe me, there’s nowhere I’d rather be than right here. I’ve had it easy all my life. Nannies, private school, summers in Europe. Not that I’m complaining, but I like working with Teen Works. It feels good to know I’m making a serious contribution to these kids.”
The heavy cardboard box was now full of newspapers, and Colleen lifted it, starting for the stairs.
“Let me help you with that,” Nancy offered.
“No, thanks,” Colleen said brightly, shifting the box in her arms. “I can handle it.”
“Well, at least let us help you clean up the base
ment,” Bess said.
“Don’t worry about it,” Colleen said over her shoulder. “The kids and I will take care of everything.”
Bess stared up the stairs at Colleen’s retreating cowboy boots. “Wow. I hope I’m as selfless as she is when I’m a fabulously wealthy socialite someday.”
Laughing, Nancy walked down a cleared path toward the spot where she’d found the makeshift room that morning. As she neared the stone wall, she recognized the transom window and the mattress, but all else had been cleared away.
“Oh, no!” Nancy cried, rushing forward. “What happened to my evidence?”
“It was just a bunch of hamburger wrappers,” Bess consoled her. “I doubt you could have learned anything from it.”
Nancy wanted to kick herself for not thinking to ask Andrew to leave this area alone until she’d examined it.
“Maybe the homeless person’s stuff is still here somewhere,” Bess said, coming over to join Nancy. “The basement’s still pretty messy.”
“That’s true,” Nancy said, brightening. She knelt by the mattress and lifted it up so she could look under it. The only thing she saw was hard-packed earth and a crumpled piece of fabric. Kicking the fabric out with her toe, Nancy let the mattress drop. Then she picked up the moldy-smelling fabric and tried to smooth it out on the ground. It was a T-shirt, filthy and wrinkled, with a few faded words on the front.
“ ‘Bentley High Boneheads, Class of Seventy-seven,’ ” Bess read, kneeling next to Nancy. There was also a picture of a skull wearing a mortarboard.
Turning the T-shirt over, Nancy saw just two letters printed on the back: G.L.
“I don’t get it,” Bess said. “What does it mean?”
Shrugging, Nancy said, “We don’t even know if the T-shirt belonged to the person who slept down here. But if it did, the letters on the back could be his initials.”
“It looks as if G.L., whoever he is, graduated from Bentley High School in 1977,” Bess said.
“That’s a good guess,” Nancy agreed. “Bentley’s not too far from here. We could go over to the high school and try looking him up in one of the yearbooks.”
“Sounds good to me,” Bess said, standing up and brushing the dirt off her pink overalls.
“I think we’ve learned everything we can from this,” Nancy said, holding her nose as she dropped the T-shirt onto a pile of garbage. “It stinks! Meanwhile, I’m hungry. Have you eaten lunch yet?”
Bess gave her an apologetic look. “We all had sandwiches while you were gone. Let me see if I can scout one out for you, though.”
“Thanks,” Nancy told her. “I’ll check with Ned to see if he wants one, too.
While Bess went off to find sandwiches, Nancy returned to the ballroom. Up in the balcony Andrew and Ned were about to fit the new guardrail into place. Blaster’s music filled the room, though Nancy didn’t see the deejay anywhere. It was midafternoon, but the day was still so gloomy and overcast that almost no light came in through the windows. The room was lit only by a few work lights scattered around the ballroom.
“Hey, Ned, this is just like Romeo and Juliet,” Nancy called, coming directly beneath the balcony.
Ned blew her a kiss as he lifted up the new metal rail, with Andrew directing him.
“ ‘What light through yonder window breaks . . .’ ” Nancy said, quoting from the play.
“I think you’ve got it backward,” Ned said, grinning down at her. “That’s Romeo’s line.”
“Well, you’re the one who’s up on the balcony,” Nancy said with a laugh.
Ned started to say something, but his voice was suddenly cut off as all the lights went out at once. The ballroom was plunged into dark shadows.
Nancy jumped as a heavy metal object clattered to the floor just inches away from her. A second later she heard a much more frightening sound.
It was the bone-cracking thud of a body landing right beside her, followed by an anguished groan.
Chapter
Six
A FEELING OF DREAD washed over Nancy. “Turn on the lights, somebody!” she yelled.
A moment later the work lights in the ballroom flickered back on, and Nancy saw Ned lying on the floor at her feet, clutching his right arm.
“Ned!” she cried, dropping to her knees beside him. His face had gone white and was contorted in pain. “Did you break your arm?”
Grimacing, Ned nodded. “I think so. You might say my arm broke my fall.” He tried to laugh, but then he winced.
“Does anything else hurt?” Nancy asked.
“Not really,” Ned answered. He gingerly raised himself to a sitting position and looked around at the group of teens that had crowded around him.
Andrew’s head appeared over the edge of the balcony. Blaster was right behind him. “I’ll call an ambulance!” Andrew shouted.
“No,” Nancy said, pulling her car keys from her purse. “We’ll make better time if I drive him to the hospital myself.”
• • •
“For a guy who fell fifteen feet, you were pretty lucky,” Bess said to Ned as Nancy pulled out of the Melborne Community Hospital parking lot a few hours later. “A simple fracture’s not too bad.”
Ned groaned, sinking against the passenger seat. “Tell that to my coach,” he said. His right arm was encased in a plaster cast and held in a sling under his leather jacket. “I won’t be able to play basketball for five whole weeks—at the peak of the season.”
“I’m just glad you’ll be able to play at all,” Nancy said.
It was after five o’clock, and the sky was pitch black, starless, and gloomy. Just the way I’m feeling, Nancy thought. It was bad enough that someone was sabotaging the inn, but where did that person come off hurting innocent people? Nancy was more resolved than ever to track the culprit down and bring him to justice.
“What happened up there, Ned? Did someone push you?” she asked, glancing at her boyfriend.
Ned stared out the window as they passed a strip of used-car lots. “It all went by so fast. All I know is, I was standing close to the edge when the lights went out. I don’t think I felt anyone touch me, but I’m not completely sure. I definitely lost my balance.”
“So the real question is, who turned out the lights?” Nancy said. “We know Blaster was working up there on the master light switch.”
“Yeah, but Eddie was with him,” Ned said. “He couldn’t have turned out the lights and come forward to push me with Eddie watching.”
“Uh, excuse me,” said Bess, “but Eddie wasn’t with Blaster.”
Glancing at Bess in the rearview mirror, Nancy asked, “How do you know?”
“Because when I went to the kitchen to look for a sandwich, Eddie was there,” Bess said. “He was at the circuit breaker, talking to Blaster over a walkie-talkie. He was telling Blaster to flip certain switches, and then he’d see if the lights were working.”
“So what does that mean?” Ned asked. “That Blaster turned off the lights by accident?”
“Maybe,” Nancy said, “or maybe he did it on purpose, since no one was watching him.”
Nancy turned the Mustang onto the thruway, heading for Mapleton so she could drive Ned home. It was too late to go back to the inn. They’d already called Andrew from the hospital to let him know what was going on.
“It’s possible Julie paid the inn another visit,” Nancy added. “Though I’m not sure how she could have turned off the lights with Blaster in the alcove by the switches.”
“Anyway, why would she do that?” Ned asked. “She was mad at Andrew, not me.”
“That might have been the real accident,” Bess put in. “Maybe Julie intended to push Andrew off the balcony but couldn’t see in the dark and pushed you instead.”
Shaking his head doubtfully, Ned said, “I don’t know, Julie’s not like that. She’s sweet.”
“Andrew said the same thing, but she didn’t sound so sweet when I talked to her at the crafts store today,” Nancy said. She quick
ly recounted Julie’s bitter remarks about the inn.
Ned still didn’t look convinced. “There has to be some other explanation for what happened,” he said. “Maybe it was the person hiding in the basement. He could still be around somewhere, too.”
“Nothing points to him being behind any of these accidents,” Nancy told him, “but I do want to get over to Bentley High School and see if I can find out anything about the Boneheads and G.L.”
• • •
“What are you doing here?” Andrew exclaimed Wednesday morning as Nancy, Ned, and Bess entered the inn’s lobby. Andrew was on his way out the door, a ledger under his arm and car keys jangling in his hand. “You should be home taking care of that arm, Ned.”
Grinning, Ned said, “I figured even if I can’t work, you could use some moral support after everything that’s happened.”
“That’s for sure,” Andrew said glumly. “We had another incident last night.”
“Oh, no!” Bess said with a gasp. “Was anyone else hurt?”
Andrew shook his head. “Fortunately not. I’m on my way to meet my father at his office, but I guess I can take a minute to show you.” He crossed the lobby and went inside his office, reappearing a moment later with a note in his hand. The words Come back to me were printed on it, and bloodred paint drippings covered the page.
Taking the other message out of her purse, Nancy compared it to the one Andrew held. The handwriting in both notes looked the same, and so did the red enamel paint.
“ ‘Come back to me?’ ” Bess repeated. “I don’t get it. Who’s ‘me’? And who is ‘me’ talking to?”
Nancy frowned and turned to Andrew. “You’re not going to want to hear this,” she told him, “but that message could be from Julie. Maybe it’s her way of saying she wants to get back together.”
For the first time since Nancy had mentioned Julie as a suspect, Andrew didn’t object. “It’s possible,” he admitted quietly. “But I have no idea how she could have gotten inside the inn. All the doors are locked at night, and there’s no way she could get a key.”
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