Deep Secrets, Page 2

“Good, we can all walk together. Isn’t it an incredible night?” Bess sighed. She twisted her long, windswept blond hair into a loose knot. “Look, there’s a sailboat. How beautiful!” She pointed at some running lights and a triangle of white sail, barely visible. The boat was moving at a good clip across the choppy water.

  Tommy peered out at the boat. “That must be Seth Cooper’s sloop,” he commented. “He’s the only person I can think of who sails offshore at night. Alone, too. He’s a terrific sailor.”

  “Cooper? Do I know him?” Nancy asked.

  “Tall, gray-haired guy, probably in his early forties,” Tommy replied. He grinned, a dimple showing in his cheek. “My mom says he’s a hunk.”

  “Oh, I know who he is.” Nancy laughed. “My aunt thinks he’s gorgeous, too. He’s new in town.”

  “That’s him,” Tommy confirmed. “He lives on his boat, doesn’t socialize much. He seems like a good guy. As a matter of fact, he lost his crew and asked me to crew on his boat for the regatta.”

  “You didn’t tell me that!” Bess exclaimed. She squeezed Tommy’s hand. “That’s fantastic!”

  “I just talked to him about it yesterday. I hope my boss will let me have the day off.” Tommy drove boats and rented out equipment for a water-ski rental shop in town.

  “The regatta is Saturday, no?” Sasha asked.

  “Uh-huh. And this year there are going to be some changes.” Tommy ran a hand through his unruly blond hair. “Emily Terner has won hands down for the last three years, but I think Seth Cooper just might beat her Saturday. It’ll be a race to see!”

  A gust of wind blew Nancy’s hair into her face. Lightning flashed, then came a rumble of thunder. “Oh, no!” she cried. “It’s going to storm. Come on, let’s run.”

  Laughing, the four teenagers raced back to the party.

  • • •

  “The wheels of justice are turning,” Emily said, her voice loud to be heard over the rain thrumming on the metal roof. It was Friday, and Nancy, Bess, George, and Emily were sitting in a booth having lunch at Nino’s, a local diner. “I called California this morning and spoke to Roland Lyons’s old business partner.”

  “What about?” asked Nancy. She speared a chunk of tomato with her fork as a flash of lightning lit up the sky.

  “I told you—I’m digging up dirt on Lyons.”

  “Shh! Not so loud,” Bess whispered. “Isn’t that him right over there?” She gestured with her head toward the counter.

  Nancy turned. A slender, boyish-looking man with black hair and horn-rimmed glasses was sitting on a stool drinking a cup of coffee. He caught Nancy’s eye and gave her a pleasant nod.

  Nancy smiled politely. She had met Lyons once or twice. He’d struck her as being a little too fond of his own jokes, but that certainly didn’t make him a crook.

  Turning back to her own table, Nancy murmured, “So what did you find out, Emily?”

  “Not much,” Emily confessed, lowering her voice. “Mr. Berry didn’t want to talk to me. All he would say was that he and Lyons split up on good terms. But I know there must be some reason why Lyons left California. I mean, why would anybody leave a thriving construction business and start all over again on the other side of the country—unless he had to?”

  “Maybe he didn’t want to get caught in an earthquake,” George suggested.

  “An earthquake!” Bess shrieked. “Really, George.”

  There was a clattering noise behind Nancy. Turning, she saw that Lyons had dropped his spoon on the floor. He picked it up, glancing over at their table again. Then he paid up and left, unfurling an umbrella.

  “I didn’t mean to shout,” Bess murmured apologetically.

  “Maybe Lyons was worried about earthquakes, but I think he was running from the law,” Emily said doggedly. She glanced at her watch, then jumped up. “Oops! I’ve got to go,” she exclaimed. “My dad’s coming home—I want to be sure all evidence of the party is gone.” She tossed a bill onto the table. “That should cover me. See you all later.”

  Nancy, George, and Bess lingered over lunch for another half-hour. When they paid their check and left, the rain was still coming down in almost solid sheets.

  “This is awful,” Bess moaned as they ran to take shelter under the awning of a hardware store down the street from the diner. “I hope they don’t have to call off the regatta tomorrow.”

  Nancy glanced in the window of the hardware store. Roland Lyons was standing at the counter talking to Keith Artin. Nancy had forgotten that Keith worked there—it didn’t fit in with his rich-kid image. Nancy remembered that Keith’s father insisted he hold a job.

  “Look—Emily’s two favorite people,” she commented, smiling. “Good thing she isn’t here.”

  “Yeah. She’s probably home and dried off already,” George said. A raindrop rolled off the awning and hit her on the nose. “Ugh! Let’s go!”

  • • •

  The rain continued all day, with only a lull late in the afternoon. Overnight the wind rose. By morning it was practically at gale force. Nancy, Bess, and George drove over to Emily’s house to see if she had heard anything about the regatta.

  When Nancy rang the doorbell at the Terner house, the door flew open almost immediately. Mr. Terner stood there, looking as if they were the last people he had expected.

  “Hi,” Nancy said hesitantly. He was an imposing figure, stern and cold-looking, with silver hair. “We’re friends of Emily’s. Is she home?”

  Mr. Terner sagged against the doorframe. “No, she isn’t.”

  He seems to be ill, Nancy thought. “Is something the matter?” she asked.

  “It’s Emily.” Mr. Terner sighed. “She went out sailing yesterday, during the break in the rain, and she never came back. And in this storm, she—” He paused for a painful moment.

  “I think she may have been lost at sea!” he managed at last.

  Chapter

  Three

  OH, NO!” BESS EXCLAIMED.

  “Mr. Terner, are you sure?” Nancy asked, aghast. “Did you call the marina? Maybe she slept on the boat or at a friend’s house.”

  Mr. Terner shook his head. “I thought of that. I called the marina as soon as I realized she wasn’t home. Her car is in the lot. And our boat, the Swallow, is missing from its slip.” His hand on the doorframe was white-knuckled, Nancy saw. He was terribly worried!

  “I’m sorry—you girls are standing out in the rain. Please come in,” Mr. Terner said. He held the door open and the girls filed into the living room.

  Nancy quickly introduced herself and her friends. Then she got down to business. “Have you notified the coast guard?” she asked urgently.

  “I’ve done everything,” Mr. Terner replied. “Police, coast guard—I’ve called them all, for all the good it does.” His nostrils flared with anger. “The police say it’s the coast guard’s job to find her, and the coast guard tells me they’re helpless without knowing her speed and heading, and they haven’t got the manpower for an adequate search. Incompetent fools!”

  “I’m sure they’re doing everything they can,” Nancy said diplomatically.

  Mr. Terner struck his fist against his other palm. “If only I didn’t feel so helpless! All I can do is sit by the phone and wait!”

  “Is there anything we can do to help?” George asked, her dark eyes anxious.

  “We could ask around and see if any of her friends knew where she was going,” Bess offered.

  Mr. Terner looked taken aback. “Well, I don’t know,” he said. “Perhaps you could.”

  “Bess, that’s a great idea,” Nancy told her friend warmly. “Mr. Terner, we’d be glad to make some calls. We can also go down to the marina and see if the manager has any useful information.”

  “I don’t know what to say.” Mr. Terner’s voice was gruff. “I’d—I’d be very grateful for any help you girls can give. Thank you.”

  “It’s easy to see where Emily gets her take-charge manner,” Bess commented as the gi
rls drove through the pelting rain to the marina. “Mr. Terner was ready to seize command of the coast-guard station.”

  Nancy nodded. “I don’t think he’s used to needing anyone else’s help,” she said. They pulled into the marina parking lot. “Look, there’s Emily’s car.”

  Emily’s silver convertible was one of the few cars in the lot. The top was up, and the windows were closed against the rain.

  “What was she thinking of, going out in this?” George wondered aloud. The rain was gradually slackening off to a spitting drizzle, but the wind was still howling. The girls splashed across the lot to the manager’s office. “I know she’s kind of reckless, but this seems closer to stupid.”

  “George!” Bess looked shocked.

  “George is right,” Nancy spoke up. “And Emily isn’t stupid. She went out during that lull yesterday afternoon. Something must have prevented her from getting back in.” She tried not to think how serious sailing mishaps could get.

  A moment after Nancy knocked, the manager’s door swung open and a tall, bony woman in oilskins and rubber boots stood there. “You looking for me?” she asked.

  “Are you the manager?” Nancy inquired.

  “That’s right. Name’s Janette Hanks. What can I do for you?”

  “We’re friends of Emily Terner’s,” Nancy told her. “We were wondering if you could tell us when you last saw the Swallow.”

  Ms. Hanks looked regretful. “Poor child,” she said. “I can’t believe she did such a foolish thing. I thought Emily knew better than to go out in the dead of night in any weather.”

  “Dead of night?” Nancy frowned. “Her father told us she took the boat out in the afternoon.”

  “She did,” Ms. Hanks agreed, nodding vigorously. “But she got in from that jaunt about nine-fifty last night. I watched her dock. I went home at ten, and when I arrived at seven this morning the Swallow was gone. Emily must’ve come back late last night and sailed out again.”

  “How could she have gotten out and then back in? Don’t you lock the gates at night?” George asked.

  “It’s just a combination lock, and most of the boat owners know the combination,” Ms. Hanks admitted. “Everyone knows that the last person out locks up at night.”

  Nancy shook her head in disbelief. It made no sense. Why would Emily do such a thing?

  “Well, thanks for your help. Come on, guys, let’s go home and man the phones,” she said, turning to Bess and George. “Maybe Emily told somebody what she was doing.”

  Before heading home, Nancy stopped at a pay phone and dialed the Terners’ number. Mr. Terner answered on the first ring. Nancy told him what Ms. Hanks had said.

  “So she did come home last night,” Mr. Terner said. “I thought I heard her car pull into the garage at about ten-thirty, but when I couldn’t find her this morning, I assumed I had imagined it.”

  “Was she upset about something?” Nancy asked. “Has she ever taken off like this before?”

  “Like this? You mean in a sailboat, in the dead of night? No.” Mr. Terner’s voice was angry, but then he paused as if to calm down. “I’m sorry,” he said after a moment. “I know you’re trying to help. The fact is, Emily and I did have—words. And she is a headstrong girl. But I assure you, no matter how angry she felt, she wouldn’t risk her life just to make me sorry.”

  Nancy sighed. “I was wondering, why didn’t Ms. Hanks tell you about Emily coming in last night?” she asked, changing the subject.

  “Oh, I didn’t speak with her—only her assistant,” he replied. “I think I’ll call the coast guard. Maybe they can use this new information.” He didn’t sound hopeful. “And thank you again, Nancy. I appreciate your concern.”

  Nancy hung up and climbed back into her rented car. The three girls drove back to Eloise Drew’s house in silence.

  “Aunt Eloise?” Nancy asked, opening the door.

  “We’re in here, Nancy,” her aunt called from the kitchen. The scent of coffee wafted through the open, airy foyer.

  “We?” Eloise must have a guest. Nancy was surprised—she hadn’t noticed another car in the driveway.

  The girls went into the kitchen. A tall, rugged-looking man with a thick thatch of iron-gray hair was leaning against the white counter, a mug in his hand. His piercing blue eyes twinkled, and he was chuckling at whatever Eloise had just said.

  Eloise Drew was pouring herself coffee. A slender, elegant woman with shiny brown hair, she was a feminine version of her elder brother, Nancy’s father, Carson. Nancy was struck by the resemblance as Eloise smiled a hello.

  “Girls, meet Seth Cooper,” Eloise said. “Seth, this is my niece, Nancy, and her friends George Fayne and Bess Marvin.”

  “Nice to meet you,” Nancy said. Bess and George added their greetings.

  “I nearly ran Seth down with my shopping cart in the supermarket,” Eloise told them, laughing. “I brought him over for coffee to apologize.”

  “No apology needed,” Seth put in. “If I’d known you were going to treat me so well I would have steered my cart into yours as soon as I saw you.” His voice was deep and resonant.

  Eloise’s cheeks pinkened. “Oh, did you do that on purpose?” she asked.

  “You bet,” Seth answered, sounding serious. “I was so annoyed that the regatta had been postponed that I was looking for a fight.”

  Seth’s words reminded Nancy of the reason they had dashed home. “Aunt Eloise, we’re going to have to tie up the phone for a while,” she said. She quickly explained about Emily and the Swallow being missing, and about what they were doing to help. Eloise was horrified.

  “That poor girl!” she exclaimed. She turned to Seth. “You’re the expert. Can she make it in weather like this?”

  Seth shrugged. “I think you’re worrying too soon. If Emily’s half the sailor I’ve heard she is, she can ride out this storm.”

  “In this wind?” George protested. “Wouldn’t the boat capsize and sink?”

  “I doubt it.” Seth shook his head. “I’ve seen the Swallow. She’s got a good, heavy keel—probably about a forty-percent ballast-displacement ratio.”

  “What does that mean?” Bess whispered to Nancy.

  “It means the Swallow couldn’t capsize if you wanted her to,” Seth explained, smiling. “The keel is weighted with lead. The ballast-displacement ratio is the ratio of the weight of the lead to the overall weight of the boat.”

  “Oh.” Bess still looked mystified.

  “So you think Emily’s safe?” Nancy asked Seth. He must have sensed her skepticism.

  “Don’t get me wrong,” he said. “I don’t know your friend, but I’ve heard some amazing stories about her sailing abilities. Maybe this is one more hair-raising exploit. Maybe she’s trying to prove something.”

  “Maybe,” Nancy said, and let it go at that. A disturbing idea had just occurred to her, but she needed to check all the other possibilities first. “Come on, guys, let’s start calling,” she said to her friends.

  An hour later they had called everyone they could think of who knew Emily, and they were no closer to finding the girl. No one had seen her the day before, either in the afternoon or in the evening. Nancy’s feeling of unease grew.

  “Well, that’s the last person I can think of to call,” George said as she hung up the phone. She sighed.

  Bess’s blue eyes were distressed. “This is so awful,” she said. “Poor Emily!”

  “What else can we do?” George asked.

  Lost in thought, Nancy didn’t even hear the question. George poked her in the ribs. “Hey, anybody home?”

  Nancy jumped. “Sorry. I was thinking. . . . There are things that don’t add up here. I just can’t believe Emily would go sailing alone, in a storm, at night. And if she did, why didn’t she radio in to ask for help?”

  “What are you getting at?” George was staring at her friend.

  “What I’m getting at is this,” Nancy said. “I know there could be a lot of explanations. Maybe th
e radio conked out—although I remember Emily telling me they just replaced the whole system this year. Or maybe she got knocked out somehow or washed overboard.”

  Nancy leaned forward. “But I think we also have to consider the possibility that Emily has been kidnapped!”

  Chapter

  Four

  BESS AND GEORGE stared at Nancy blankly for a moment. Then George shook her head.

  “Wait a second, Nan,” she protested. “I must be missing something. Did you say kidnapped?”

  “What in the world gave you that idea?” asked Bess incredulously.

  “I know it sounds weird, but just think about it,” Nancy said.

  “Look at Mr. Terner,” she began. “Emily’s the only family he’s got. His wife died years ago, and Emily is an only child. His daughter means everything to him.”

  Nancy knew what she was talking about. Her own mother had died when she was very young, and she and her father had a bond that was deep and special.

  “Plus, Mr. Terner is a very wealthy man,” she continued. “You both know that. I’ll bet he could pay a lot of ransom money. Doesn’t Emily sound like the ideal target for a kidnapper?”

  There was a short silence. Then Bess cleared her throat. “Don’t you think you’re getting carried away?” she asked hesitantly. “No one’s asked Mr. Terner for ransom money.”

  “Bess is right,” chimed in George. “Honestly, Nan, I think you’re reaching too far this time. Haven’t you had enough mysteries for one summer?”

  Nancy winced. “Maybe you’re right,” she admitted. “Maybe I’m looking for a mystery where there isn’t one. But I still think there’s something weird about Emily’s disappearance.”

  The phone rang. Maybe it was a call about Emily! the girls hoped. Nancy and George both dived for it. Nancy got there first. “Hello?” she said breathlessly.

  “Your phone has been busy for more than an hour,” Sasha’s voice complained. “I was just about to have lunch alone, but I would much rather have it with you. Will you invite me over?”

  Nancy laughed. “Sasha, you’re outrageous. Come on over. I’ve got a lot to tell you.”