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    Lost in the Everglades

    Page 6
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      from Susan and Griffin. Specifically, she needed to

      know whether Jade had ever been involved in citizens'

      groups, environmental and otherwise. She also needed

      to know how strongly Jade had felt about the

      degradation of the Everglades.

      Half an hour later after enjoying a dessert of mango

      parfaits, the girls got up to go. As Nancy was leaving

      the tip, she noticed a woman sitting two tables away.

      She was hunched over a newspaper, wearing a big

      white hat.

      The woman glanced over her shoulder—ever so

      slightly—in the direction of Nancy's table. Nancy

      noticed just then that the woman's newspaper was

      upside down.

      Nancy frowned. Had the woman been listening to

      their conversation?

      “Come on, Nancy, let's go,” Bess said from the

      doorway.

      The woman glanced away quickly. Nancy shrugged

      and followed Bess and George. “Okay, coming,” she

      called out.

      As they left Nancy turned and stared at the woman

      one last time. Now the woman was talking quietly into

      a purple cell phone.

      There was something familiar about her. Or am I

      just being paranoid? Nancy wondered.

      In any case she made a mental note: big white hat,

      purple cell phone. She would remember the woman if

      she ran into her again dressed like that.

      “Do you suppose Jade might have been a member of

      CAMC?” Bess spoke up from the backseat.

      The girls were driving back to Flamingo. The

      midafternoon sun beat down and shimmered on the

      asphalt pavement. Thank goodness for air conditioning,

      Nancy thought fleetingly as she made a left turn at a

      light ten miles outside of the park.

      “That would explain the piece of paper you found

      with the word Pantera on it, Nan,” George agreed.

      Nancy nodded. “Maybe. Or maybe Jade was in-

      terested in the Panterra Corporation's business all on

      her own, without being a part of CAMC or any other

      group.” She added, “We can ask Susan when we get

      back to Flamingo. We're meeting her later this

      afternoon for a sunset cruise thing.”

      “A sunset cruise sounds like fun!” Bess exclaimed.

      “I want to talk to Griffin, too,” Nancy added. “He

      might know some stuff about Jade that Susan doesn't

      know.”

      “Don't be too hard on the poor guy, okay?” Bess

      reminded Nancy. “He's still in mourning.”

      “I'll try to be nice,” Nancy promised.

      Nancy pressed her foot on the accelerator and sped

      up slightly. The road was relatively deserted, with an

      orange grove on one side and a fallow field on the

      other. Tall, brownish green palm trees lined both sides

      of the road. Just ahead of them, a flock of herons

      swooped through the air. One of them had a small fish

      dangling from its mouth.

      Nancy glanced in the rearview mirror. There was a

      gray car behind them, in the distance. No other cars

      were around.

      “It is so hot,” Bess remarked, fanning herself with

      the road map. “When we get back to our cabin, I'm

      going to sit in the bathtub in my bathing suit and

      pretend it's a swimming pool.”

      “I'll crank up the AC,” Nancy offered. She reached

      down and adjusted the controls. She peeked in the

      rearview mirror again. The gray car was catching up to

      them.

      That driver's going awfully fast, she thought.

      The mysterious gray car continued closing the

      distance. Out of instinct, Nancy glanced at the license

      plate number. The plate was caked with mud and

      partially obscured.

      She could just barely make out the first three letters.

      The first one looked like L. No, J. The second one was

      a D, and the third one was an O.

      JDO. But the rest of the plate was unreadable.

      All of a sudden, the gray car veered into the left lane

      and put on an extra burst of speed. It caught up to

      Nancy's car, as if to pass her.

      Instead of moving ahead, the gray car started

      inching closer to Nancy's. Nancy tried to inch to the

      right, to get out of the way. But the road had no

      shoulder. In seconds she would smash against a palm

      tree or roll over the grassy embankment.

      The gray car inched even closer to Nancy's car.

      “Nancy, look out!” Bess shouted.

      7. Girl Overboard

      The gray car bumped up against the side of the girls'

      rental. Nancy heard the awful sound of metal scraping

      against metal.

      “What is that crazy person doing?” George yelled.

      “I think that crazy person is trying to run us off the

      road,” Nancy said.

      She gripped the wheel tightly, trying to stay in

      control as she felt their car weave and wobble to the

      right. She glanced quickly at the edge of the road.

      There was a steep embankment leading down to a

      dense grove of orange trees.

      If we get run off the road, Nancy thought worriedly,

      we could go tumbling down the embankment. Our car

      could flip over. . . .

      Nancy glanced to the left, trying to make out the

      drivers face. The windows of the gray car were tinted,

      making it difficult to see in. Plus, the person was

      wearing dark glasses, a wide-brimmed hat, and a coat

      with the collar turned up.

      A coat in this heat? Nancy wondered. Obviously the

      person was trying to disguise him or herself.

      A disguise meant that the person had intended to

      follow Nancy and her friends, and to run them off the

      road. The whole thing had been premeditated.

      The gray car bumped Nancy's again, but harder this

      time. Bess let out a scream. Nancy was able to hold the

      car steady, but barely. Thinking quickly she abruptly

      slammed on the brakes.

      The gray car didn't stop. Instead, it kicked up a

      cloud of dust and sped away, out of sight.

      The girls' car did a one-eighty in the middle of the

      road before coming to a stop. Bess was still screaming,

      while George was white-knuckling the dashboard, not

      saying a word.

      “Bess, it's okay, the other car's gone!” Nancy yelled.

      Bess clamped a hand over her mouth and stopped

      screaming. “Oh.”

      Nancy shifted the car into Park, opened the door,

      and got out. The air shimmered with heat. Nearby, a

      couple of roseate spoonbills were sitting on the ground,

      watching her.

      Nancy pushed her hair back and knelt down to

      examine the driver's side door. There was a slight dent

      and some scratches. Considering everything, though,

      the damage wasn't too bad. Wiping a bead of sweat

      from her forehead, she got back into the car.

      “Well?” Bess asked. “How bad is it?”

      “Not too much damage,” Nancy said.

      Nancy started the car up again. She proceeded down

      the road as fast as the speed limit would allow.

      George turned to her. “Um, Nancy? What are you

      doing?”

      �
    ��I'm going to try to catch up to that gray car,” Nancy

      replied. “I want to get the rest of the license plate

      number.”

      “What if that crazy person wants to play bumper cars

      again?” Bess asked anxiously.

      “I won't let that happen, believe me,” Nancy

      promised.

      The gray car had gotten too much of a head start,

      though, and by the time Nancy reached the next in-

      tersection, the gray car was nowhere in sight.

      “I want to report a hit-and-run.”

      Back at their cabin at Flamingo, Nancy was on the

      phone with the local police. George was lying on the

      floor, dressed in sweats, doing some ab crunches. Bess

      was in the bathroom, taking a shower. Nancy could

      hear her singing.

      After a moment Nancy was transferred to a police

      officer named Detective Garcia. Nancy told her what

      had happened to her, Bess, and George on their way

      home from Miami. Detective Garcia took down the

      information, then began asking Nancy some questions.

      “You didn't get the whole license plate number?”

      Detective Garcia asked.

      “I'm afraid not. Just JDO.' The rest of it was cov-

      ered with mud.”

      “Were those the first three letters, or the last three

      letters?”

      “First.”

      “Uh-huh,” Detective Garcia said. “You say it was

      some sort of a gray four-door sedan? Did you catch the

      make?”

      “I'm afraid not.”

      “Dark gray or light gray or silvery gray?”

      Nancy thought for a moment. “More like dark gray.

      Like a charcoal gray.”

      “Uh-huh. What about a description of the driver?

      Male or female? White, African-American, Asian-

      American, Hispanic, or other?”

      “I'm sorry, but I couldn't tell,” Nancy said apolo-

      getically. “The person was wearing a coat with the

      collar turned up, plus a wide-brimmed hat and sun-

      glasses. I couldn't even tell if it was a man or a woman.”

      “A coat in this heat?” Detective Garcia sounded

      surprised.

      “That's what I thought, too,” Nancy said.

      Detective Garcia asked Nancy a few more questions,

      then she took Nancy's name and phone number at the

      cabin. She promised to try to run a license check based

      on Nancy's information and call her with the results.

      Nancy thanked her and hung up. “Any progress?”

      George asked her. “Nine, ten, eleven,” she said as she

      continued to do her ab crunches. “I'm almost finished

      with this set,” she explained.

      “She said she'd do what she could, based on the

      partial license plate number and the description of the

      car,” Nancy said. She picked up the phone again.

      “Now who're you calling?” George asked.

      “I'm going to try to find the leader of CAMC—

      Citizens Against Manatee Commons. This Jeff Kelly

      guy.”

      Nancy cradled the phone against her ear, then

      picked up the phone book and put it on her lap. She

      looked up Jeff Kelly's name. There were a dozen Jeff

      Kellys in the phone book.

      “Oh, great,” Nancy moaned, then began dialing.

      A man answered on the first try. “Hello?”

      “Hi, Jeff Kelly? Is this the Jeff Kelly who's the head

      of CAMC?”

      “The head of what? You've got the wrong number.”

      “Oh, sorry.”

      Nancy hung up and tried again. She went through

      eight similar conversations before she finally got lucky.

      When she dialed the number of the ninth Jeff Kelly,

      a man's voice answered. But instead of the usual

      “Hello?” he said, “Sandy?”

      Nancy started. “Uh, no, this is Nancy”

      “Sorry, I was expecting another call,” the man said.

      “What can I do for you?”

      “Is this Jeff Kelly of CAMC?”

      “Speaking.”

      Nancy hesitated for a second. Should she come right

      out and ask him if he knew Jade Romero? Or should

      she get more information about CAMC and the Drakes

      first?

      She decided on the latter course. “I'm interested in

      learning more about your group,” she said after a

      moment. “I'm also interested in learning about the

      Panterra Corporation's projects in southern Florida.”

      There was a silence on the other end. “What's your

      interest, Nancy?” Jeff Kelly said after a moment.

      “I've been reading some articles. It sounds like their

      projects have caused a lot of harm to the Everglades,”

      Nancy explained.

      “That's the understatement of the year.” Jeff

      chuckled dryly. “Listen, there's a Save the Manatees

      lunch benefit at the Coconut Beach Club tomorrow,

      one o'clock. CAMC isn't sponsoring it, another

      environmental group is. But I'll be there, and so will

      some other CAMC members. The Drakes will be

      there, too.”

      “The Drakes?” Nancy said, surprised.

      “They come to all the pro-environment events,” Jeff

      said. “It's good public relations,” he added sarcastically.

      Jeff gave Nancy directions to the Coconut Beach

      Club. When he'd finished, he said, “See you tomorrow,

      then. It should be a fun time—it's a good cause, and

      you'll get the full Drake effect.”

      “Thanks for your help, Jeff.”

      “No problem.”

      Nancy said goodbye, then hung up. George had

      moved on to pushups. “What was that about?” George

      asked her, huffing and puffing.

      “We're going to a party tomorrow. It's a save the

      manatees' benefit. And I'm going to need you to do a

      special job,” Nancy told her.

      George stopped in the middle of a pushup. “What

      sort of special job'?”

      Nancy winked at George. “You'll see.”

      Bess emerged from the bathroom dressed in a fluffy

      pink robe. She was towel-drying her hair with a pink

      towel. “Why does George get a special job? Why don't

      I?” she complained.

      “Because you don't look like Jade Romero,” Nancy

      replied.

      The sun was just going down as Nancy, Susan,

      George, and Bess climbed aboard the large white

      sailboat. Susan had arranged for the girls to go on a

      special sunset cruise aboard the Seabreeze.

      Nancy was wearing a sundress that matched the

      cornflower blue of her eyes. Bess's dress was white,

      and George and Susan were both wearing linen slacks

      and shirts. The air was cool, especially on the boat.

      Nancy was glad that she'd brought her jeans jacket

      along.

      The Seabreeze was run by a couple of friends of

      Susan's, Jody and Michael, who took tourists for cruises

      around Florida Bay. Now, as the four girls strapped on

      their life preservers and sat down in their seats, Jody

      came up to them with glasses of a fruity-looking punch

      decorated with sprigs of fresh mint.

      “Cocktails?” Jody offered. “It's a mixture of seltzer,

      papaya juice, orange juice, and pineapple juice. I made

      it myself
    from an old family recipe.”

      “Mmm, thanks,” Bess said, taking a glass.

      “Thank you,” Nancy said, taking a glass, too. “We're

      really excited about this cruise, Jody. How long will we

      be out?”

      “About an hour. Just sit back and enjoy,” Jody said

      with a smile.

      As Jody and Michael got the boat going, the four

      friends sipped their punches and stared out at the

      sunset. The sky was streaked with beautiful ribbons of

      pink, gold, and red. Hundreds of sea birds—pelicans,

      ospreys, herons, seagulls, and egrets—swooped

      through the air, then dove into the water for fish. In

      the distance Nancy could see tiny islands dotting the

      waters.

      Nancy took a deep breath. The air was fresh and

      salty smelling.

      “I can't believe what you guys went through this

      afternoon,” Susan said, tossing her long red hair over

      her shoulders. Just before boarding the Seabreeze,

      Nancy had filled Susan in on their trip to and from the

      Panterra Corporation. “Do the police have any

      information about who tried to run you off the road?”

      Susan asked.

      “Officer Garcia called me about an hour ago,” Nancy

      replied. “So far, she hasn't come up with anything.”

      “That's too bad.” Susan bit her lip. “Listen, girls. I

      asked you to come down here to visit, and I was hoping

      you'd help me find out what happened to Jade. But 1

      didn't expect you to be in danger. I don't like it that

      someone tried to send you flying into a ditch or

      whatever. I feel responsible.”

      “No problem, Susan,” Bess piped up. “What's a little

      detective work without danger? George, Nancy, and I

      are used to it. We thrive on danger, don't we?”

      George and Nancy stared at Bess, then at each

      other, and as if on cue burst out laughing.

      “Um, right,” George said after a moment. “We

      thrive on danger.”

      “We'll be careful,” Nancy reassured Susan. “And if

      things get too hairy—well, we'll rethink the whole

      situation.”

      Susan nodded. “Good.”

      Then Nancy remembered what she had meant to

      ask her friend. “Listen, Susan. Was Jade involved in

      any environmental groups that you know of? Was she

      really into preserving the Everglades?”

      Susan looked thoughtful. “She wasn't in any official

      environmental groups that I know of, although she may

      have gone to a meeting or two here and there,” she said

     


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