Portrait in Crime

  Chapter

  One

  I LOVE FEELING the ocean breeze on my face,” Bess Marvin said, shouting over the drone of the powerboat’s engine. She was standing in the stern, her blond hair pulled neatly back in a ponytail. “Let’s spend every summer at the beach!”

  Nancy Drew’s blue eyes sparkled as she leaned her head to her friend’s ear. “I know why you’re so happy,” she teased in a low voice, casting her eyes in the direction of the good-looking blond guy at the steering wheel. “And it has nothing to do with the ocean breeze and the beach!”

  “Nancy!” Bess’s pretty face turned pink. “Tommy’s just a friend,” she said in a whisper so Tommy couldn’t possibly hear.

  Nancy stretched her long tanned legs on the padded seat and smiled. Bess had jumped at the chance to go waterskiing the minute Tommy Gray had suggested it. Then she’d dragged her cousin, George Fayne, and Nancy all over the Hamptons for two days shopping for the sleek pink bathing suit she was wearing. One thing was for sure, Nancy knew. Bess’s enthusiasm wasn’t out of any love of the sport. Bess avoided exercise every chance she could!

  Nancy, Bess, and George had come to the Hamptons to spend a relaxing summer with Nancy’s aunt, Eloise Drew. They’d had a lot of fun, Nancy thought, but they hadn’t had much time for relaxation. The first couple of weeks had been great, full of new friends and, for George, a new romance. The three girls had spent lazy days on the beach and nights out dancing. Then they were suddenly plunged into a mystery. Now, Nancy mused, it was time for relaxing.

  “Tommy’s a really great guy, though,” Bess said, moving Nancy’s legs to sit beside her. As the girls were gazing at his sun-bleached hair, Tommy turned his freckled face toward them and gave Bess a smile.

  “Don’t you think he’s cute, Nancy?” Bess asked. “I mean, he’s not glamorous like Sasha . . .” Her voice trailed off.

  No, Nancy agreed, glancing over at the lithe, handsome Sasha Petrov, who was leaning against the rail near Tommy. Not many teenagers were like Sasha. The nineteen-year-old Russian was one of a kind.

  Sasha was one of the lead dancers at an international dance institute that had been set up in the Hamptons as part of a summer cultural program. The institute had brought together some of the most talented young dancers from all over the world.

  Nancy’s aunt Eloise was Sasha’s local sponsor, and she’d asked Nancy and her friends to take him around during his free time. That was easy enough. The tough part was that Sasha had begun flirting with Nancy the minute they met. So far, he had honored her request to be just friends, but Nancy still hadn’t figured out how she felt about him.

  She shrugged. “Sasha’s fun,” she said neutrally, “when he’s not following your every step.”

  “You mean, when he’s not following your every step.” Bess grinned. “We found out long ago that he’s interested only in a certain red-haired detective. You know you love it, too.”

  Nancy felt her face getting hot. These days, Sasha seemed to pop up whenever he wasn’t in rehearsal. Nancy had been seeing a lot of him lately—and she had been enjoying it, she had to admit.

  “Speaking of following someone around, can you believe George passed up waterskiing?” Bess commented. “She would have had a blast today.”

  “Well, Gary had an early-morning test flight, and I guess they decided to do something by themselves the rest of the day,” Nancy replied.

  Bess tossed her head. “They spend every minute together! It’s a good thing George isn’t always in love. We’d never see her!”

  As soon as the three girls had arrived at the Hamptons, George had met Gary Powell, a test pilot for Jetstream Aviation, a commercial jet manufacturer several miles outside of their town. Someone had stolen the plans for a top secret plane called the Jetstar and sold them to a French company. Nancy had gotten involved because Jetstream suspected Gary of being the thief. At one point in her investigation, Nancy had actually been suspicious of Sasha, but then the mystery took another turn. Sasha was kidnapped by the real villain, and Nancy had had to rescue the Russian dancer.

  Nancy studied Sasha’s profile. He was charming, impulsive, and romantic. He had a way of making whoever he was with feel special. And he also had presence—when he walked into a room everyone stared.

  Yes, Sasha was definitely glamorous. Tommy wasn’t, but he was funny and smart and nice. He reminded Nancy a little of her boyfriend, Ned Nickerson.

  A fine spray of salt water whipped Nancy’s reddish blond hair into her face. She pulled it back idly. It had been a month of excitement, she thought, and for her friends, it was shaping up to be a summer of romance. George and Gary barely spent a minute apart, and now it seemed Bess was falling for Tommy Gray. Nancy couldn’t remember the last time her two best friends had been in love at the same time.

  Just as she couldn’t remember the last time she’d had a real conversation with Ned. Oh, sure, they talked on the phone a couple of times a week, but lately Nancy felt out of touch with him. His summer job in Mapleton was keeping him so busy that he’d had to postpone one trip to visit her already. She missed him, but she was also busy—too busy to think about him as often as she used to, she realized with a pang of guilt.

  Tommy threw the powerboat into a sharp curve and Bess gave an admiring sigh. “He drives this thing so well,” she cooed.

  Nancy pulled herself out of her daydreaming. “Tommy is a great guy,” she assured Bess. “And since he manages the waterskiing shop in town, he’s perfect for you,” she added mischievously.

  “Perfect for George, you mean,” Bess said wryly, referring to her athletic cousin. “Don’t think I don’t know how silly this seems.”

  Tommy turned to the girls. “Who’s up?” he asked pleasantly. “Bess, do you want to go first?”

  “Uh, sure,” she said, casting a nervous smile at Nancy. “How hard can it be?” she whispered.

  Nancy grinned. “Remember, you’ve done this before. You’ll do fine.”

  Tommy cut the engine and threw the rope over the back of the boat. “Don’t worry, Bess,” he said, noticing her reservations. “We picked a good, calm day for it. You have to try it sometime when the wind is really blowing.”

  As Tommy gave Bess instructions, Sasha came over and sat next to Nancy.

  “It is the day for waterskiing amateurs,” he said, his deep blue eyes dancing. “Who do you think will be worse at this? Bess or me?”

  “Are you kidding? I don’t think Bess has willingly participated in a sport in her life!”

  The two of them watched as Bess dove over the side and swam to the skis.

  “That’s it,” Tommy said encouragingly as she slipped her feet into the foot holders. “Point the ski tips up out of the water and sit back on the skis with your knees bent.”

  Bess looked nervous but followed his directions gamely as Tommy eased the boat forward, slowly pulling her out of the water.

  “Nancy, do you mind steering while I keep an eye on her?” Tommy asked.

  Nodding, Nancy took the wheel, and the three friends watched Bess carefully. She seemed pretty much at ease, Nancy thought with relief. Beside her, Sasha leaned back and shut his eyes.

  “Bess tells me you’re a detective,” Tommy said, standing behind Nancy.

  “That’s right,” she replied, twisting her head to look at him.

  “Do you mind talking about work while we’re out here?” he asked. “I mean, I don’t want to bother you about your job if you’d rather not discuss it.”

  “Not at all,” Nancy assured him. “I’m between mysteries right now, though.”

  Tommy nodded, but didn’t continue.

  “Did you want to hear about any of the cases I’ve solved?” Nancy prodded after a few moments of silence. “
Or did you have something to tell me about?”

  “Well, actually, it’s something new,” Tommy admitted, flushing. He broke off. “Bess!” he called, waving to get her attention. “Do it this way!” He crouched, directing Bess to do the same. “She’s doing pretty well,” he said with admiration.

  “I hope you’ll be that attentive to me when I get out there,” Sasha said to Tommy.

  “Are you kidding?” Tommy retorted. “You’re an athlete. You won’t need it.”

  “We’ll see,” Sasha said. “What are you two talking about? I wasn’t really listening.”

  “A mystery,” Nancy offered.

  “Another one so soon?” Sasha’s eyes lit up. “Can I get kidnapped again?”

  Seeing his excitement, Nancy suppressed a laugh. Sasha was a mystery buff. It was his enthusiasm for mysteries that had gotten him in trouble the last time.

  “Kidnapped?” Tommy frowned, glancing from Nancy to Sasha. “No, I mean, this isn’t a big deal,” he said, confused. “It’s just something that has been worrying my mother. Have you ever heard of Nicholas Scott?”

  “The guy who was killed in the boating accident last week?” Nancy asked, surprised. Tommy nodded. “What happened exactly?”

  “He was fishing off the end of the island. And his boat hit some rocks.”

  “Fishing?” Sasha broke in. “I read about that. But I thought it happened at night.”

  Tommy nodded, one eye on Bess as he spoke. “Night fishing. It’s not unusual. But I guess the weather was bad. The wind around here can be violent, especially when it changes direction. Boats get overturned all the time. When Nicholas’s boat hit, he was knocked out and drowned.”

  Not a good swimmer then, Nancy thought. “So you think there’s something fishy about the story?”

  “Oh, no.” Tommy shook his head, simultaneously waving at Bess. “That’s not it at all. The problem is that no one has seen his uncle since the accident.”

  Seeing the blank expression on Nancy’s face, Tommy apologized. “Let me start at the beginning. My mother runs the Nisus Art Gallery in town. She has an exclusive arrangement with one of the Hamptons’ most prominent painters, Christopher Scott.”

  Nancy nodded. “I’ve heard of him. He paints enormous landscapes.”

  “Right. Nicholas Scott is his nephew, and his agent. Was, I guess I should say. They lived together, and Nicholas took care of business so Christopher could concentrate on his work. They were a pretty weird pair.

  “Anyway,” he continued, “now that Nicholas is gone, Christopher seems to have vanished. Or at least, he’s been avoiding everyone. No one answers the telephone at the house or the studio. And the really odd thing is that Christopher didn’t even go to Nicholas’s funeral.”

  Nancy frowned. “That is strange. Especially if they were close. Maybe he’s traveling and doesn’t know what happened.”

  “Maybe.” Tommy shrugged doubtfully. “Mom’s worried, though. She’s got a major show of Scott paintings coming up, and she really needs to speak to him. I don’t suppose you could help?”

  “Well, I could try,” Nancy said slowly. Privately, she thought it didn’t seem like much of a mystery, but she would be happy to help. “Has your mother spoken to the police about Scott’s disappearance?”

  “Oh, no,” Tommy said. “See, the thing is, Christopher Scott is a recluse. Everyone knows it. There’s no real cause to launch a full-scale investigation—yet.”

  “What about his friends or relatives?” Sasha asked. “Are they worried, too?”

  “There aren’t any relatives, at least none that anyone here knows about. As for friends, Christopher wasn’t interested in friends. And Nicholas was not the world’s most popular guy.”

  “No?” Nancy asked, intrigued.

  Tommy frowned. “He was kind of a playboy. He didn’t have a job, unless you count taking care of Chris’s money as a job. He spent some of his time acting with the local theater group and writing poetry. Mostly, he went to nightclubs and lived off his uncle’s money.”

  “Who arranged for the funeral?” Sasha asked.

  “That was also strange,” Tommy said. “I think Bob Tercero did. He’s the manager at my mom’s gallery.”

  “Well, I could stop by the gallery later today to talk to your mom, if you’d like,” Nancy offered.

  “We could,” Sasha interrupted. “I’m free all day.”

  Tommy grinned. “I’d really appreciate it.”

  The three young people settled on a time, and Tommy took over the wheel. “Bess looks okay. Why don’t you go sit down,” he offered.

  Nancy and Sasha went to the bow, where Sasha had spread a towel over the deck. Nancy sat on the towel, and Sasha perched, half seated, on the railing.

  “You are going to let me help with this case?” Sasha asked as he held his lean, high-cheekboned face up toward the sun. He added, “You know we make a good team—in more than one way.”

  What was she going to do about him? Nancy wondered, as she let her eyes run over his thick, light brown hair. He had made it clear that he was interested in her, and he wasn’t going to give up easily. She did like being with him, she had to admit, but she was in love with Ned!

  “Yes,” she said at last. “You’ll poke around, anyway, so I might as well include you.”

  Sasha’s eyes popped open, and he gave Nancy a wide grin. “It doesn’t sound very exciting,” he commented, “but it ought to be easy and safe, not like the last mystery we solved!”

  Suddenly there was an earsplitting scream. Startled, Tommy whipped around, his hands still on the steering wheel. The boat swerved, and Nancy was thrown back against the side of the boat.

  Sasha was caught off balance. He tried to hold onto the railing, but his hands slipped. Before Nancy could react, Sasha was thrown out of the boat and was somersaulting backward into the water!

  Chapter

  Two

  TOMMY!” Nancy cried out.

  Tommy turned to see what had happened and threw the throttle into neutral. “Bess? Sasha? Is everyone okay?”

  Nancy leaned over the side of the boat. “Sasha,” she called, “are you okay?”

  Sasha was treading water. “Just shaken, I think. What happened? Who screamed?”

  “I think it was Bess,” Nancy said, shading her eyes as she searched for her friend. Bess, in the distance, waved an arm, signaling that she wasn’t hurt.

  “There she is.” Nancy pointed. “We’d better go get her.”

  Nancy turned back to Sasha, who was swimming gingerly toward the boat. “What’s wrong with your arm?” she asked worriedly, noticing that he was favoring his left arm. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine,” Sasha insisted breathlessly. “Throw me a life preserver and go see if Bess is okay.”

  “She’s managing,” Nancy said. “Let’s get you up first.”

  Tommy swung the boat around.

  “Come up over the side, and stay away from the engines,” Nancy directed as Sasha approached the boat.

  Together, Nancy and Tommy hauled Sasha back in over the side gunwale. Nancy took a look at his shoulder as Tommy gunned the engine and took off for Bess.

  Bess was treading water exactly where she had fallen. She hadn’t even tried to swim for the boat.

  “Are you okay?” Nancy called as they drew up beside her. Bess nodded.

  Tommy helped Bess aboard, and Nancy dove into the water to retrieve the skis. When she got back Bess was wrapped in a towel, leaning heavily against Tommy’s shoulder.

  “I’m sorry!” Bess burst out as Nancy hoisted herself back on board. “I didn’t mean to fall and cause such a commotion. Sasha, are you sure you’re okay?”

  Sasha assured her for the third time that he was. “I shouldn’t have been sitting on the railing anyway,” he said.

  “What happened to you?” Nancy asked Bess.

  “She fell,” Tommy said simply. “Happens to the best of us.” Turning back to Bess, he brushed damp tendrils of hair o
ff her forehead. “You are okay, aren’t you?” he asked tenderly.

  Nancy smiled openly as she watched them. The romance was certainly blooming! “Okay if I take the wheel?” she asked.

  Tommy nodded, barely glancing at her.

  Nancy looked at Sasha. “Uh,” she began, “Sasha, do you want to ski?”

  “Go ahead, Sasha,” Bess said immediately. “Don’t let me spoil the day.”

  Sasha shook his head, salt water flying from his golden brown hair. “That’s okay, I’ve been in the water enough for today.” He touched his left shoulder unconsciously.

  “You’re sure your shoulder is okay?” Nancy asked him worriedly. “Dmitri will kill me if you’re hurt.”

  Sasha grinned at the thought of his overprotective chaperon, Dmitri Kolchak. “He won’t kill you, but he will fuss over me more than Tommy is fussing over Bess.”

  “Let’s spend the rest of the day on land,” he said, and Nancy headed toward the dock.

  • • •

  “I did not fall on purpose!” Bess declared hotly as the two girls and Sasha sat on the porch of the Nisus Art Gallery after a very late lunch.

  Nancy laughed and hugged her friend. “Bess, I’m teasing! All I meant was it couldn’t have worked better if you had planned it.”

  A small smile played over Bess’s lips. “Well, Tommy was awfully concerned—” She stopped suddenly, narrowing her eyes. “Don’t you dare tell George I fell! She’ll never let me forget it.”

  Tommy poked his head out the door. “Are you guys coming in?” he called.

  The three friends walked into the gallery, cool air embracing them. The main room was a large, off-white space, sparsely furnished. There was a young woman sitting at a desk near the door, reading a book. Nancy looked around.

  An enormous painting hung on the wall facing them, dominating the room. It was done entirely in shades of pink, and it was very pretty, but Nancy didn’t think it was special. “I’d never make an art critic,” she murmured to Sasha.

  A smattering of smaller paintings graced the other walls. Two sculptures were displayed on freestanding columns placed in the middle of the room.