Mystery by Moonlight

  Contents

  * * *

  1 A Cry in the Night

  2 Too Many Neighbors

  3 Dangerous Curve

  4 Burgled

  5 The Uninvited Guest

  6 A Killer Storm

  7 A Secret Revealed

  8 Blinded by the Light

  9 What Lies Above

  10 The Best Laid Plans

  11 A Familiar Prowler

  12 Shadows in the Moonlight

  13 Drowning in Moonlight

  14 A Ghostly Fleet

  15 The Past Revealed

  1

  A Cry in the Night

  Late one August night, Nancy Drew drove along a twisting dirt road with the top of her Mustang convertible down, and a smile on her face. Stars glittered above her head. The forest alongside the road was fragrant after an earlier shower. The breeze was warm, and Nancy felt comfortable without a sweater over her strappy blue tank top.

  Nancy and her boyfriend, Ned Nickerson, had been traveling since dawn, sharing the long drive from River Heights to the Pocono Mountains of eastern Pennsylvania. But even though it was past midnight, Nancy was wide-awake and eager to catch her first glimpse of Moonlight Lake, where her friends George Fayne and Bess Marvin were house-sitting for George’s cousin Jason and his wife, Jennifer.

  Nancy glanced across the front seat at Ned. He was studying a sheet of paper by the narrow beam of Nancy’s penlight.

  “What’s our next landmark?” she asked.

  “Says, ‘A stack of three white mailboxes on the left. Hard to find!’ ” Ned grinned at Nancy. “As if anything since we turned off the interstate has been easy to find.”

  Nancy laughed, then spotted the mailboxes in the car’s headlights. The mailboxes were covered with some sort of vines. As Nancy slowed down and turned onto the narrow gravel drive, she said, “I hope all that green stuff isn’t poison ivy!”

  “Whoever has this mail route probably hopes so too,” Ned said with a laugh.

  Nancy concentrated on the road. The driveway was in bad shape, and overshadowed by thick hemlock trees. After the first ten feet or so, it pitched steeply downhill, then it suddenly opened out, branching off in three different directions.

  “It’s the middle driveway,” Ned instructed as Nancy slowed down. A larger drive cut off to the right, while another small dirt road, barely wider than a footpath, led to the left into the heart of the hemlock forest. But just ahead at the bottom of the hill, the trees thinned out, and Nancy caught her first glimpse of Moonlight Lake.

  Nancy braked to a stop and let the car idle as she drank in the view. The setting was romantic, even more beautiful than George had made it sound last week when she invited Ned and Nancy to spend time at the cottage. A light breeze lifted Nancy’s thick reddish-blond hair off her shoulders. Her blue eyes sparkled with delight. What a perfect place for the last fling of what had been a really great summer!

  “Did you order up the nearly-full moon for the occasion, Nan?” Ned teased. Nancy released the brake and slowly continued down the drive toward a small two-storied stone cottage perched on the edge of the lake. The porch lights were on. Music and the smell of brownies baking wafted out the screen door.

  Before Nancy could answer Ned’s question, a figure burst from the door and jogged up to the car, flashlight in hand.

  “Nancy!” Bess’s familiar voice called as Nancy was pulling into the driveway next to an old station wagon. “Am I ever glad to see you!” she declared.

  “That’s good, since we plan to spend the week here,” Ned joked as he climbed out of the car and stretched his arms over his head.

  Nancy put up the top of the car and popped the trunk before getting out. She and Bess hugged, then Nancy held her friend at arm’s length. Although Bess’s smile was wide, her blue eyes looked worried.

  “Is something wrong?” Nancy asked.

  “I’m not sure,” Bess said. “But things are getting definitely weird around here lately.”

  “What’s going on?” Nancy prodded, arching her eyebrows. “George didn’t mention anything when we spoke on the phone last night.”

  Bess gave an exasperated sigh. “Oh, you know George. Sometimes she is so levelheaded, it’s disgusting.” Nancy smiled. George and Bess were first cousins and devoted friends, but in everything from looks to interests, they might as well have been born on different planets.

  Nancy listened patiently as Bess continued. “I’m positive George has heard the same noises I have almost every night. There’s a ghost, Nancy—a real ghost that’s haunting this place. Until today I thought it was the ghost of someone murdered on this very spot!” Bess jerked her head toward the cottage. She lowered her voice to a whisper. “But now I’m sure it’s the restless spirit of a child left behind and drowned when the valley was flooded back in the twenties to form the lake!”

  “I don’t like the sound of this,” Ned said with mock seriousness. “We came for a vacation, and already you have Nancy on the case, tracking down some drowned ghost.”

  “Well it’s true! I know—”

  “Because it’s in the paper,” George finished for Bess as she approached the car. She aimed her flashlight at the small pile of luggage Ned had already extracted from the trunk. “Hi Nan, Ned. Great to see you. You’ll be happy to know you’re just in time for brownies.”

  “And ghost stories around the campfire! What more could a guy want!” Ned joked.

  “Laugh all you want, but it’s true,” Bess insisted. “George read the same story I did, but she just doesn’t believe it.”

  “I think it’s just a feature story to lure tourists to the area,” George maintained.

  Nancy stifled a smile. Bess was serious, and Nancy didn’t want to hurt her feelings. “What did the paper say?” Nancy asked.

  George answered for Bess. “Oh, there was an article commemorating the anniversary of the hydroelectric project that created this lake back in the Prohibition era. The article had quotes from locals who swear that the spirits of former area residents still frequent the lakeshore houses.”

  “Power of suggestion,” Ned said, shouldering two duffle bags and starting toward the back porch. “All old houses have noises.”

  “Not like these!” Bess declared with a vigorous shake of her head.

  “What kind of noises?” Nancy asked, looking at George.

  “Weird ones,” George readily admitted.

  “Screams,” Bess added. “And that creaking at night in the ceiling. . . . ” Bess shuddered.

  “Mice in the attic,” Ned said firmly. “Just mice.”

  “Except there is no attic!” George pointed out. “And Bess is right about one thing—the noises are seriously freaky. Still, there has to be some rational explanation for them.”

  “In your dreams, maybe,” Bess scoffed. But her next words were cut off by a woman’s scream. It was high and piercing and made Nancy’s skin crawl.

  “What was that?” Nancy gasped.

  “The ghost—it’s the ghost!” Bess cried in a panic. “And it’s coming this way!” she shrieked.

  There was a sound of something crashing through the forest. Nancy turned. Whatever had screamed was plunging toward them. Suddenly a huge, dark shape broke through the underbrush and into the yard.

  “It’s no ghost!” Nancy gasped at the sight of the large, furry creature coming toward her. “It’s a—”

  Nancy never got to finish her sentence. The huge creature threw itself against her, pinning her to the ground.

  “It’s a bear!” Bess wailed, making a beeline for the porch.

  2

  Too Many Neighbors

  A scream rose to Nancy’s lips, but her cry was smothered by the huge beast.

&nbs
p; “A bear! A bear!” she heard Bess scream.

  This thing is not heavy enough to be a bear! Nancy thought as she struggled to squirm out from under the wriggling mass of fur. She pushed with all her might, and her hand gripped its fuzzy pelt. Then her fingers closed on something else. It was smooth and cool and studded with some kind of metal balls. It felt like a . . . a collar! Nancy grasped it, and suddenly a big wet tongue began licking her face. She managed to roll out from beneath the creature.

  “It’s a dog!” George gasped, helping Ned pull the huge dog off Nancy.

  Nancy scrambled to her feet and began to laugh. “Stop it, you silly dog!” she commanded as Ned dragged the dog away. The dog wagged its tail and turned its affections toward Ned, jumping up and planting its massive paws on his shoulders. With great enthusiasm, it began to lick Ned’s neck.

  Laughing, Ned tried to push the dog down while Nancy rubbed her hip where she had fallen. “Are you okay?” he asked.

  “I’ll survive,” Nancy said. She could see in the light spilling from the porch that the dog was some sort of mixed breed—part Newfoundland, part . . . something very furry. Its coat was black and studded with burrs and all sorts of leaf litter. “Just scraped my elbow when Bigfoot here tackled me!”

  “Down, boy, down!” Ned ordered, letting go of the dog’s collar. The dog obeyed, sitting erect at Ned’s feet. He looked up expectantly at Ned, his fluffy tail thumping the ground. Ned looked surprised. “It’s sure not a stray—someone’s trained it.”

  “Not well enough,” George grumbled, helping Nancy dust off her jeans.

  “You’re sure it’s just a dog? Like, not part wolf or something?” Bess called from the safety of the porch. She sounded skeptical.

  “Definitely a dog,” Nancy said, grabbing some paper towels from the trunk of her car and wiping her face. “Definitely big. Definitely affectionate.” She turned toward George. “Where did it come from?” she asked. “Do you know its name?”

  George shook her head. “I’ve never seen this guy before,” she said, crouching down and patting the dog. Nancy dropped down next to her and began gently removing the burrs from its fur.

  “So, we don’t know whose dog it is,” Nancy stated.

  “Or who screamed!” Bess pointed out, cautiously approaching the dog and reaching out her hand to let him sniff her fingers.

  The dog nuzzled Bess’s hand. Suddenly, it lifted its head and stared intently into the woods. A second later it jumped to its feet and started barking furiously. Just as it prepared to bolt into the trees, Ned snared the dog by the collar. “Hold it!” Ned shouted as he spotted a woman coming out of the brush.

  She strode toward them, the beam of her flashlight bobbing against the scruffy grass. She was tall and gangly, and Nancy was surprised to see her dressed in a long-sleeved camouflage shirt and camouflage trousers. Weird outfit for this time of night, she thought.

  “Is this your dog?” the woman asked Nancy in a strong British accent. She looked furious.

  Before Nancy could reply, a man broke through the brush, carrying a battery-operated lantern. He was only slightly taller than the woman, and wiry with a beaklike nose and a thin face. Like the woman, he was dressed all in camouflage.

  “This is the last straw!” the man fumed. “You’d better keep this dog leashed, or I’m calling the police. Enough is enough!”

  Nancy frowned and exchanged a quick glance with George. George looked as annoyed and perplexed as Nancy felt. “I’m sorry about the dog, Caspar, but I haven’t a clue where he’s from,” George told the man sharply. She introduced the middle-aged couple to Nancy and Ned. “This is Millicent and Caspar Lawrence-Jones. They’re our neighbors on the next lakefront property.” Turning back to the couple, George said, “These are my friends Nancy Drew and Ned Nickerson. They’re here for the week.”

  Millicent gave Nancy an exasperated look. “Great. More kids, more partying—and loud goings-on. Glad to meet you.”

  “We didn’t come to throw loud parties!” Nancy said in her defense.

  “So if this isn’t your dog,” Caspar Lawrence-Jones said to George, “whose is it?”

  George shrugged. “Beats me. I’ve never seen him before.”

  Nancy crouched down and tickled the dog’s ears as she looked to see if there was anything written on his collar.

  Just then the sound of an approaching motorcycle made everyone turn. The dog let out a happy yip, then bounded down the side of the driveway toward the approaching headlight. “Hey, Tiny, watch out!” a gruff voice called. A moment later the owner of the voice came into view.

  He was a stocky man who seemed too big for his motorcycle. He was wearing flip-flops, baggy shorts, and a black T-shirt emblazoned with a Camp Moonlight logo. The word “Chief” was inscribed on his baseball cap, and a tattoo of a crescent moon peeked out from under the short sleeve of his shirt.

  “Tiny, how’d you ever get loose?” The man stopped the bike, and the dog leaped all over him. “Down, now. Behave yourself.”

  Tiny instantly sat down and looked adoringly at his master’s face.

  “Is this your dog?” Caspar asked angrily.

  “Yeah. What of it?” the man shot back.

  “What of it?” Bess repeated incredulously. She marched right up to the man and said, “He practically killed my friend Nancy, here.”

  “It wasn’t as bad as that!” Nancy interjected quickly. She wasn’t sure she liked the looks of this guy on the motorcycle, and she didn’t want to pick a fight with him.

  “It was more than bad for us!” Millicent fumed. “That dog ruined a whole night’s work.”

  Nancy looked at George. “Work?” she mouthed.

  George arched her eyebrows and nodded as Caspar went on. “More like two weeks work. We’ve been trying to get some footage of a gray owl attacking its prey. Just when the owl spotted the bait, your dumb mutt homed in on the bait and knocked down our setup.”

  “He’s not dumb!” the man said defensively, revving his bike. “What was the bait? A rabbit? Dogs hunt rabbits around these parts, mister.” He looked at his dog. “Come on, Tiny, we’re heading home.”

  “You’d better keep him leashed,” Caspar threatened.

  “Or what?” the man countered, wheeling his motorcycle around. “Look, he got loose. It’s no big deal. He wouldn’t hurt a soul.” With that, the man gunned his engine and tore back up the drive, Tiny running behind him.

  “What a piece of work!” Caspar said, staring after the bike’s rear bumper light as it receded up the steep driveway, around a curve, and out of sight.

  Millicent blew out her breath in a huff. “He’s a rude, inconsiderate person. I thought that since his campers left this weekend, things would quiet down. Between the dog and—” She glared at Ned and Nancy and cut herself off. “C’mon, Caspar, let’s grab our equipment and head back to the house. We’ve got to rebuild our rig first thing in the morning.” The couple stomped back through the brush toward the forest.

  “Uh, good night,” Ned called after them.

  “Right!” Caspar said, not bothering to turn around.

  A frown crossed Nancy’s face, but a moment later she shrugged and smiled. “Charming neighbors!” she joked.

  Bess rolled her eyes. “Those two have been real pills ever since we got here. When Jason and Jennifer asked us to house-sit, I think the Lawrence-Joneses decided to hate us because we’re eighteen-year-olds.”

  “Which to them means loud, wild parties,” George added.

  “Which, needless to say,” Bess pointed out sadly, “isn’t the case.” She grabbed one of Nancy’s bags and headed across the grass toward the back porch. “You know, I could use a party,” she added.

  “And I think they deserve a particularly loud one!” Ned suggested with a wicked gleam in his eye.

  “Can’t,” George said. “I promised Jen and Jason we’d keep a low profile. Not embarrass them or anything. Though I’m sorely tempted. Besides, the Lawrence-Joneses may act com
pletely obnoxious, but they’re pretty interesting people.”

  “If you call grubbing around in the dark and baiting owls with dead rabbits interesting. I call it gross!” Bess commented as they headed through the back door of the stone cottage, through a small mudroom, and into the kitchen. “But compared to that Steve Delmonico, they’re downright friendly.”

  “Steve Delmonico—is that the guy with the dog?” Ned asked.

  “Yeah, he owns the summer camp next to the large house to the right of this cottage. He’s freaked out that Emily bought the land out from under him when he wanted to expand his camp,” George told them.

  “Who’s Emily?” Nancy asked, following Bess into the house.

  “She’s pretty cool. You’ll meet her tomorrow,” Bess said. “She lives in the house across the lawn, full-time. This cottage used to be a guest house on a larger estate before the property was divided up. Emily just moved in at the beginning of the summer.” She motioned around the Fayne family cottage. “This is, of course, the kitchen. The kitchen and the family room is all there is downstairs—except for the deck. All the bedrooms are on the second floor.”

  Nancy surveyed the kitchen. It was old-fashioned, with appliances that looked like they were from the fifties. “Hannah would feel right at home here,” Nancy remarked, referring to the housekeeper who had lived with her and her father ever since Nancy’s mother had died.

  “Especially with the pantry! You’ll have to check it out later. Jennifer’s developed the same passion as Hannah for canning fruits and veggies during her vacations here,” George told Nancy as she put four tall glasses on a tray. “I don’t get it—I couldn’t stay inside the house, sweating over a hot stove in the summer. Not when there’s so much else to do outdoors.”

  “Jen’s the homey type,” Bess remarked.

  A pitcher of iced tea was on the metal-topped table in the center of the room, and brownies cooled on a rack on top of the chipped white enamel stove. “This place is great,” Nancy said, “and those brownies smell good!”

  “Take some, and pour yourself some tea. You probably need to unwind after such a long drive,” Bess said, putting the brownies on a plate.