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    Lost in the Everglades

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      woman and her warning message to “go away and

      never come back.”

      “I-I'm going back into the tent,” Bess said, shud-

      dering.

      “Not yet. I need your help. Bess, you and George

      grab a flashlight and go that way.” Nancy pointed to the

      left. “Susan, you come with me. We're going to find

      this woman. Let's meet back at the tent in ten

      minutes.”

      Nancy and Susan had no luck finding the woman.

      Nancy was almost relieved when the ten minutes were

      up, because it was weird and scary tramping through

      the dark with just a flashlight.

      Bess and George were there when Nancy and Susan

      returned. “No ghost,” George said.

      “We didn't find her, either,” Nancy said.

      Bess crossed her arms over her chest and peered out

      at the darkness. “Are you sure she wasn't a ghost,

      Nancy? Absolutely one hundred percent sure?”

      “There's no such thing as ghosts, Bess, and besides,

      we saw footprints,” Nancy replied. “The real question

      is: Was it Jade?”

      “I don't believe it,” Susan said, shaking her head.

      Then she stared at Nancy curiously. “What did she look

      like?”

      Nancy pointed to George. “She looked just like

      George.”

      Susan gasped. “It had to be Jade then.”

      “Maybe. On the other hand, if it was Jade, why

      would she be telling us to go away?” Nancy asked.

      Susan sighed. “I have no idea. It doesn't make any

      sense.”

      “It definitely doesn't,” Nancy agreed.

      * * *

      The next morning the girls woke up bright and early.

      Over a breakfast of pecan pancakes and coffee with

      evaporated milk they discussed the ghostly incident

      from the night before.

      “Isn't it possible,” Bess mumbled, her mouth full of

      pancakes, “that those footprints belonged to one of

      us?”

      Nancy started. “I hadn't thought of that. Yeah, I

      guess it's possible.”

      “Which means that could have been a real ghost,”

      Susan pointed out.

      “No way,” Nancy replied. “I refuse to believe that.”

      Susan didn't look convinced. “I don't know, Nancy,”

      she said in a low, frightened voice. “What if Jade really

      is dead? What if something really did happen to her

      while she was camping? What if that—that thing last

      night was really her ghost, and she's warning us to stay

      away from this island?” She looked really upset as if she

      were about to cry.

      Nancy took a sip of her coffee. “There's got to be

      another explanation, Susan,” she said gently.

      “I don't know, I think Susan is right,” Bess said,

      shuddering. “I think we should exit this place ASAP

      and just leave the whole thing to the police. It's getting

      way, way too dangerous.”

      “As much as I hate to say it, I'm starting to agree

      with Bess,” George confessed.

      “That's a first!” Bess exclaimed.

      Nancy convinced Bess and the others to stay for at

      least one more day. After breakfast they broke up into

      two teams—Nancy with Susan, Bess with George—and

      began searching the island in earnest. Nancy instructed

      her friends to look for anything and everything that

      might be related to Jade's disappearance, or to the

      “ghost.”

      “I really, really don't want to run into that ghost,”

      Bess said.

      “I don't think you will. But keep your eyes open for

      any clues to this so-called ghost, okay?” Nancy told her

      friend.

      Bess and George headed north. Nancy and Susan

      walked down a wild, brambly path through the woods,

      toward the southern part of the island. They were both

      dressed in khaki shorts and T-shirts. Even though it

      was still early, it was already blazing hot and humid.

      Nancy was wiping the sweat off her forehead when

      she heard the roar of an engine.

      “Another motorboat,” Nancy remarked.

      Susan craned her head to listen. The motorboat was

      really gunning its engine. “It's going much too fast,”

      she said worriedly. “That's how manatees get killed.”

      Nancy frowned. “Really?”

      Susan nodded. “Manatees are huge creatures. They

      average about ten feet long. They can't swim very fast,

      so they're killed by speeding motorboats all the time.”

      “That's awful,” Nancy said.

      The two girls continued down the path. All at once

      something caught Nancy's eye. Off to the right, several

      objects lay glinting in the sunlight.

      Nancy knelt down to pick up one of the objects. It

      was small and thin and sharp and caked with mud. The

      mud was fresh, not dried.

      “It's a metal pick,” she said after a moment. “And

      here's a shovel.” She picked up a small shovel that was

      half-buried in twigs and leaves.

      Susan knelt beside her. “Could be camping

      equipment,” she remarked. “Maybe some campers left

      them behind.” She added, “Or maybe these are the

      remnants of an archaeological dig.”

      “Archaeological dig?” Nancy glanced at Susan.

      “Here, on this island?”

      “We often conduct digs around the park, mostly to

      look for Native American artifacts,” Susan replied. “I'm

      not aware of any recent digs around here, though.”

      Nancy remembered the article she'd found about

      Native American artifacts among Jade's belongings.

      She'd tucked it away in her backpack somewhere.

      Maybe I brought it with me, she thought. She wouldn't

      mind learning more about the subject.

      “Nancy! Susan! Emergency!”

      Nancy glanced up. Bess was running down the path,

      waving her arms.

      Nancy and Susan rose to their feet. “Bess? What's

      going on?” Susan demanded.

      Bess stopped in front of them. Her arms were all

      scratched up, her blue eyes filled with tears.

      “It's George!” she cried out. “She's disappeared!”

      13. The Search for the Panther

      “George has disappeared!” Bess repeated frantically.

      Susan put a hand on Bess's arm. “Slow down. Tell us

      what happened.”

      Bess panted, trying to catch her breath. Her long,

      blond hair was tangled with leaves and burrs.

      “George and I—we got separated in the woods,” she

      said after a moment. “We were going down this path

      together. All of a sudden George says, Hang on, I

      think I see something. Be back in a sec' Or something

      like that.”

      She added, “Anyway, she went off into the woods.

      But she didn't come back in a sec' She didn't come

      back at all. The next thing I knew, I heard this little

      scream. I called her name, but she didn't answer. I

      went into the woods to look for her. And this—this is

      all I found.”

      She held up George's mud-covered baseball cap.

      She wiped a tear from the corner of her eye. “I'm

      telling you, she's gone!” Bess wailed. “J
    ade's ghost must

      have kidnapped her!”

      Nancy's mind was racing. What was going on? She

      wondered. First the mysterious ghostly woman last

      night—and now this. Who else was on the island with

      Nancy, Bess, George, and Susan?

      “Jade's ghost did not kidnap George,” Nancy re-

      assured Bess. “There is no Jade's ghost.' “ She added,

      “We'll find George, don't worry. Come on, Bess. Show

      us where the two of you got separated.”

      Bess led Nancy and Susan to a spot in the northern

      part of the island. Once there, the three girls

      proceeded to search the entire area from top to bot-

      tom. They called George's name over and over again,

      but there was no sign of George anywhere.

      Nancy sat down on a rock, exhausted. Susan and

      Bess did the same. Nearby, a great blue heron rose into

      the air, fanning its enormous wings.

      Nancy took a long swig of water from a thermos and

      passed it around. “Okay,” she said after a moment. “I

      think it's time to get some help. Something has

      obviously happened to George, and we need to get a

      search party going.”

      “This is awful,” Bess moaned. “What am I going to

      tell my aunt and uncle?”

      “You're not going to tell them anything yet, because

      we're going to find her,” Nancy said firmly. “We need

      to get help. One of us is going to have to go back in one

      of the kayaks.”

      “I'll go,” Susan offered immediately. “I know my way

      back.”

      Nancy nodded. “Good. Bess and I can stay here and

      keep searching for George.”

      The girls returned to their campsite with heavy

      hearts. Susan packed up her gear and got into her

      kayak. “I'll be back soon, with reinforcements,” she

      promised. “Don't worry, we'll find her!”

      “Be careful of alligators,” Bess said.

      “I'll be careful,” Susan replied.

      Nancy watched Susan paddle away. For the first

      time since they'd arrived at the Everglades, she felt as

      though they were in over their heads.

      It was early evening. A single star was twinkling in

      the pale gray sky. Nancy and Bess were sitting around

      the campfire, eating their dinner. Or at least, they were

      trying to. They were both too anxious about George to

      have any appetites.

      “I'm worried sick,” Bess said. She hadn't touched

      her plate of pasta.

      “So am I,” Nancy said. She forced herself to smile,

      for Bess's sake. “I haven't given up hope, though.”

      But Nancy wasn't really so sure. What could have

      happened to George? Was her disappearance con-

      nected to Jades disappearance? Was Griffin involved

      somehow?

      Or was it the Drakes who were responsible? And if

      so, was this all part of a grand scheme to protect the

      interests of the Panterra Corporation?

      And who was the blond woman with the purple cell

      phone?

      She voiced her questions out loud to Bess. “I'm just

      not sure what to think anymore,” she said when she

      had finished. “I wish I had some answers.”

      “Panterra, Panterra,” Bess murmured. She glanced

      up from the fire, her blue eyes sparkling. “Hey, I just

      thought of something. Maybe it's nothing, but . . .”

      “What?” Nancy said curiously.

      “I took Spanish in high school, remember? The

      word pantera. I think it means panther.' “

      Nancy stared at her friend. “Really?”

      “Really,” Bess replied, nodding. “Pantera, panther.'

      The Panther Corporation.”

      “Is that pantera with two r's or one?”

      “One.”

      Nancy frowned. “The word pantera on that slip of

      paper I found in Jade's stuff had one r. Panterra

      Corporation has two r's.”

      “Oh. Hmm. Maybe somebody doesn't know how to

      spell,” Bess speculated.

      Nancy and Bess brainstormed about the word

      panther for a while. “I remember Susan telling me that

      the Florida panther is an endangered species,” Nancy

      said. “Mrs. Drake mentioned that, too. There are only

      a few of them left in the Everglades.”

      “There really are panthers here in the Everglades?”

      Bess's eyes grew enormous. “Like, maybe right here on

      this island?”

      “I don't know about that,” Nancy said. “Anyway, do

      you suppose there's some sort of connection between

      the Florida panther and the fact that the Panterra

      Corporation's been accused of causing environmental

      problems to the park?”

      “Maybe. Sounds possible,” Bess agreed. She set her

      plate of pasta down. “Me, not eating! This is a first.”

      Nancy reached for her backpack, which was lying

      against a nearby tree. She pointed her flashlight at it

      and started rooting through it.

      “What are you looking for?” Bess asked her.

      “One of the articles I found in Jade's files. I saved it

      because it sounded land of interesting.”

      Nancy finally put her finger on it. Holding it up to

      the flashlight, she scanned it quickly.

      “It says here that a wooden statuette of a panther

      was discovered in southwest Florida in the nineteenth

      century,” Nancy explained to Bess. “It was made by the

      Calusa Indians, who inhabited the area perhaps as

      early as the fifteenth century B.C. There was a rumor

      that the statue's twin was buried somewhere in the

      Everglades. No one's ever been able to find it, though.”

      “A statuette of a panther?” Bess repeated, looking

      confused. “Made of wood? How could it survive in the

      ground for all those years? Wouldn't it get all rotten

      and icky or something?”

      “It says here that the muddy ground preserved the

      wood and kept it intact,” Nancy said.

      Nancy was about to continue reading the article, but

      all of a sudden, she heard a noise in the woods.

      Something rustled in the bushes.

      Nancy glanced up and shined the flashlight around.

      A figure was walking through the woods toward them.

      Bess leaped to her feet. “Nancy, it's—it's George!”

      she cried out joyfully.

      The figure was dressed in khaki pants and a white

      shirt. It was a woman with short, dark hair.

      The woman smiled and pulled out a gun. “Guess

      again,” she said in a voice that was nothing like

      George's.

      “That's not George,” Nancy said to Bess. “That's

      Jade Romero!”

      “Oh, you know my name,” Jade said to Nancy. “Very

      clever.”

      “Yes, she is very clever, isn't she?” came a voice from

      behind Jade.

      The person stepped forward, out of the shadows. It

      was a woman—an older woman—dressed in slacks and

      a denim shirt.

      Nancy couldn't believe her eyes. “Mrs. Drake?”

      14. The Truth Is Revealed

      Mrs. Drake smiled coldly. “Hi, Nancy dear. Nice to see

      you again.” She glanced at Bess. “I don't believe I've

      met yo
    ur friend. Another reporter, is she?”

      Nancy's mind was racing. What was Mrs. Drake

      doing with Jade? All along, she had thought the Drakes

      might have had something to do with Jade's

      disappearance.

      Now Jade was holding a gun on Nancy and Bess,

      and Mrs. Drake was going along with it.

      “You two, sit closer together,” Jade ordered Nancy

      and Bess. “I want to be able to keep an eye on both of

      you.”

      “W-what are you doing with h-her?” Bess asked

      Jade, moving closer to Nancy. “We've been looking for

      you. Susan was super-worried about you!”

      Mrs. Drake smiled. “I hired Jade and Griffin to do a

      job for me,” she explained.

      “Jade and Griffin,” Nancy repeated. Things were

      becoming a little clearer now.

      “I met Jade at a CAMC meeting,” Mrs. Drake went

      on. “I was there in disguise. I wanted to see what the

      opposition' was planning for Bill and me. Anyway, I

      managed to recruit Jade for a little project. I convinced

      her that it would be far more fulfilling than fighting

      Manatee Commons. And certainly more lucrative.”

      “Pantera,” Nancy said suddenly. “With one r.”

      Jade started. She held the gun a little higher in the

      air. “What are you talking about?” she snapped.

      It's all coming together now, Nancy thought. The

      slip of paper I came across in Jade's files, with the word

      pantera written on it. The panther-shaped brooch Mrs.

      Drake was wearing at the manatee benefit. The small

      pick and shovel Susan and I found on the island

      yesterday. The article about the Calusa Indians . . .

      “You're after the twin of the Calusa panther stat-

      uette, aren't you?” Nancy said to Mrs. Drake. “You

      hired Jade and Griffin to find it for you.”

      Mrs. Drake started. “How did you know?”

      “Lucky guess,” Nancy replied.

      Mrs. Drake's eyes gleamed. “I've dreamed all my life

      of finding that panther,” she said in a faraway voice.

      “My father used to talk about it when I was a little girl.

      He was an archaeologist, you see.”

      “Did your husband know about the panther?” Nancy

      asked her.

      “Bill knew nothing about it,” Mrs. Drake said,

      shrugging. “With him it's buildings, buildings,

      buildings. Anyway, recently, I came into possession of

      some very old maps that pointed to this area—this

      island—as the place where the panther might be

     


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