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    Lost in the Everglades

    Page 8
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      didn't exactly act guilty. Which makes me think she

      didn't have a hand in kidnapping Jade.”

      “Do you still think Jade's disappearance might be

      connected to the Drakes?” George asked her.

      Nancy nodded. “It's possible. But we need more

      facts. We also need to find Mr. Drake. I want to check

      out his reaction when he sees you.”

      The string quartet stopped playing, and a woman in

      a red dress got up on the stage and tapped briskly on

      the microphone. “Excuse me, ladies and gentlemen. I

      want to introduce our main speaker for this wonderful

      event, which was organized by SFEC, the Southern

      Florida Environmental Coalition, for the purpose of

      saving our precious manatee population.”

      The crowd broke into wild applause. “Let's try to

      find Mr. Drake,” Nancy whispered to George.

      Just then Nancy noticed something out of the corner

      of her eye. Griffin Carey—Jade's boyfriend—was

      standing by the buffet table.

      What's he doing here? Nancy wondered.

      Then Nancy noticed something else. Griffin was

      talking to an attractive blond woman. Their heads were

      bent very close together, as though they were

      discussing something very personal or confidential. The

      woman was dressed in a long, dark purple dress.

      There was something familiar looking about the

      woman. Who is she? Nancy wondered. And what is

      Griffin doing with her?

      Nancy tried to make her way over to the two of

      them, but before she had a chance, a wave of people

      cut in front of her, trying to get closer to the stage. By

      the time she and George got to the buffet table, Griffin

      and the blond mystery woman were gone.

      “Oh, great,” Nancy muttered in frustration.

      Just then she noticed something else. Mr. and Mrs.

      Drake were standing across the room, talking. At one

      point, Mrs. Drake turned around and pointed to Nancy

      and George. Mr. Drake nodded, and they continued

      talking.

      What was that about? Nancy wondered curiously.

      Did Mrs. Drake just tip her husband off that George

      wasn't Jade Romero?

      By the time Nancy and her friends got back to

      Flamingo, it was late in the afternoon. After making

      plans to meet for dinner, Susan said goodbye and went

      off to work.

      George and Bess started walking back to their cabin.

      Nancy stopped in the middle of the path. “Wait up,

      guys,” she called out. “I want to go over to the marina

      to see if I can find the motorboat from last night. You

      guys want to come with me?”

      “The motorboat from last night? Why?” George

      asked her.

      Nancy shrugged. “Just a hunch. I want to make sure

      that what happened to Bess was an accident.”

      “Sure, no problem, as long as I don't fall into Florida

      Bay again,” Bess joked.

      The three girls headed toward the marina. The air

      was thick with humidity. Palm trees cast long shadows

      across their path. As they walked, they discussed the

      benefit at the Coconut Beach Club.

      “We know this much,” Nancy said. “Mrs. Drake

      definitely knew Jade. She acted surprised when she

      saw you, George. But she didn't act guilty, which

      makes me think she wasn't involved in any weird foul

      play against Jade.”

      “What about Mr. Drake?” Bess pointed out.

      “We didn't get a chance to talk to him, so there's no

      way to tell. Maybe we can figure out some other way to

      run into him by accident.' “

      Nancy stopped to kick a pebble that was lying in the

      path. “I'm land of wondering about Griffin,” she went

      on. “I wish I knew what he was doing at that party, and

      who that blond woman was.”

      “He sure got over Jade fast,” George remarked.

      “You can say that again,” Nancy agreed.

      After a while the girls reached the marina. There

      were lots of people milling around: park employees,

      tourists, sailors rigging up their boats. Seagulls wheeled

      through the air, squawking noisily. A group of children

      were sitting on the dock, laughing and eating ice-cream

      cones.

      Nancy glanced around, assessing the situation. “You

      take that dock over there,” she told Bess, pointing to

      the dock on the left. “I'll take this one. George, you

      take that one.” She nodded to the dock on the right.

      “What are we looking for, exactly?” George asked

      Nancy.

      “A motorboat with a name that starts with the letters

      P-A-N,” Nancy replied.

      The three girls took off separately. Nancy went from

      boat to boat, checking out the names. There were a lot

      of fun names: Queen of the High Seas, Gone Fishin',

      Salty Dog, Sink or Swim. But Nancy didn't come across

      any that started with PAN.

      After a while Nancy and her friends headed back to

      their cabin. Bess and George hadn't had any luck

      either. “It's possible that the Pan-whatever motor-boat

      doesn't have a permanent docking space here,” Nancy

      said to Bess and George as they walked through the

      front door of their cabin.

      Bess took her pink rhinestone sunglasses off and set

      them down on the front hall table. “Do you think the

      same guy who was driving the gray car was driving that

      motorboat, too?” she asked Nancy.

      “It's possible,” Nancy replied. “It's also possible that

      the two events are totally unrelated. In any case, we

      should—”

      Then she stopped. She glanced around the living

      room, frowning. Something wasn't quite right,

      something was out of place.

      She saw what it was. One of the wooden chairs had

      been knocked down.

      Nancy whirled around. “Bess? George? Did you

      guys knock that chair down?” she demanded.

      “No,” Bess replied. George shook her head.

      Nancy glanced around the room, looking for any-

      thing else that might be out of place. All of a sudden,

      she had a bad feeling in the pit of her stomach. There

      might be an intruder in the cabin!

      Nancy put a finger to her lips, indicating to the girls

      that they should be silent. She walked very quietly over

      to the bedroom, reached for the light switch and

      flicked it on. The room was empty.

      The bathroom door was open. Nancy glanced inside

      quickly, then checked the shower—no one was there,

      either. She checked under all three beds. There was no

      one under any of them.

      “Nancy, what is it?” Bess whispered frantically from

      the living room doorway.

      “It's nothing, false alarm,” Nancy started to say.

      Then she stopped. There was something on the

      headboard of her bed—something that hadn't been

      there that morning.

      Nancy walked over to her bed. When she saw what

      it was, she gasped.

      Someone had stuck a note to the headboard with a

      big hunting knife. The note said: “Drop this case or

     
    you'll end up like Jade Romero.”

      10. An Alligator Encounter

      Her heart hammering in her chest, Nancy stared at the

      warning note and the hunting knife. First the

      eavesdropper, then the gray car trying to run them off

      the road, then the motorboat incident—and now this.

      The case had become much more intense and

      dangerous than she'd ever expected.

      Bess and George came rushing up to her. “Nancy,

      what's going on?” George demanded.

      Nancy pulled a handkerchief out of her pocket, then

      carefully extracted the hunting knife from the

      headboard. She didn't want to mess up fingerprint

      evidence, if there was any.

      She turned to Bess and George and held up the

      knife and the note. Bess clamped a hand over her

      mouth and stifled a scream.

      “A-a-a knife?” she sputtered. “Someone stuck a knife

      in your bed?”

      “ Drop this case or you'll end up like Jade

      Romero,'” George read out loud. “Hmm, this isn't

      good. Someone's threatening us.”

      “Well, it's definitely not a love letter,” Bess pointed

      out.

      Nancy sat down on the edge of the bed and took a

      closer look at the note. The letters had been cut out of

      newspaper headlines and glued onto the paper to form

      the message.

      She touched the letters carefully with her fingertip.

      The paper was still a little damp.

      The person just put this note together today, she

      thought.

      “Someone's definitely trying to keep us from solving

      this mystery,” Nancy said. “Someone, or maybe a

      couple of someones working together.”

      George held up her hand and began counting. “The

      eavesdropper, the driver of the gray car, the motorboat

      driver—unless that whole thing was a coincidence—

      and whoever left us the knife souvenir. Are they all the

      same person? I guess that's the question.”

      Bess marched over to the phone and picked it up.

      “It's time to bring in the big guns. We have to call the

      police and tell them about this . . . this hunting knife

      incident.”

      Nancy was about to tell Bess to go ahead, but then

      she had a thought. “Put the phone down, Bess,” Nancy

      told her.

      Bess frowned at her. “Huh? Why?”

      “I don't want to tell the police just yet,” Nancy

      replied. “I have another idea.”

      Bess hung up the phone and made a face. “What

      other idea? It had better be good because this case is

      getting way, way too scary.”

      Nancy smiled. “We're going camping—back-country

      camping. In Whitewater Bay, via the Wilderness

      Waterway.”

      “Cool,” George said.

      “Not cool,” Bess protested. “I'm not even interested

      in plain-old-everyday camping. Which means that I am

      definitely not interested in going back-country

      camping. Which means that I am definitely, definitely

      not interested in going backcountry camping in some

      place called the Wilderness Waterway. It sounds too

      wild.”

      “We're going,” Nancy said firmly. “We need to solve

      this case once and for all. And going to the scene of the

      crime is the only way”

      “Crime? What crime?” George asked her.

      Nancy smiled grimly. “Whatever crime made Jade

      Romero disappear from the face of the earth,” she

      replied.

      “Backcountry camping?” Susan gasped.

      Susan, Nancy, Bess, and George were in the

      cafeteria, having dinner when Nancy told Susan her

      idea about going backcountry camping.

      Outside the window, the sun was setting over

      Florida Bay. A few lone fishing boats bobbed on the

      horizon.

      Nancy was really excited about her plan, and she

      hoped she could convince Susan to go along with it.

      She was ticking off a mental checklist of supplies they

      would have to gather: tents, sleeping bags, flashlights,

      batteries, backpacks, containers for food and water,

      and so forth. It had been a long time since she had

      gone camping, and she wasn't familiar with the

      Everglades.

      “Tell her she's crazy, Susan,” Bess demanded. “We

      need to stay right here to solve the Jade Romero mys-

      tery, not go traipsing around in the mud or whatever.”

      She speared a piece of broiled grouper, a popular

      local fish, and popped it into her mouth. “Besides, what

      are we going to eat if we're out there in the jungle?”

      she went on. “Berries or twigs or something?”

      Nancy glanced over her shoulder. Some volunteers

      at the next table were staring at their table curiously.

      They must have overheard Jade's name, she thought.

      She leaned forward and lowered her voice. “Look. I

      don't know why I didn't think of this idea before. It

      makes perfect sense. We need to go back-country

      camping in Whitewater Bay, where Jade disappeared.”

      “But the park rangers and police have already been

      there,” Susan pointed out.

      Nancy nodded. “True. But it can't hurt to take

      another look. We might be able to find some clues the

      search party missed.” She added, “Worst-case scenario,

      we might get some new insights into the mystery.”

      “That's a good point,” Susan agreed. She slapped her

      knees. “All right, I'm in. I'll see if I can get a couple of

      days off work.”

      Nancy grinned. “Great!”

      “There'll be showers there, right?” Bess asked

      Susan.

      Susan laughed. “Showers?”

      “Okay, well, sinks, then? Mirrors?” Bess persisted.

      Susan laughed again.

      Bess turned to Nancy. “Do I have to go? Can't I just

      stay at Flamingo and hold down the fort or

      something?”

      “Sure, you can stay here just in case our friend

      comes back to the cabin with another threatening note

      and another hunting knife,” George said to her cousin.

      Bess's blue eyes widened. “Hmm. Now that you

      mention it, maybe it's time I tried this backcountry

      camping thing. I mean, I've gone camping before. So

      what's the difference, right? So we're going to some

      place that's got stingrays and alligators and no showers.

      I'm tough, I can handle it.”

      Just then Griffin walked by, tray in hand. At first he

      didn't seem to notice the girls.

      Nancy really wanted to talk to him, to ask him some

      questions about Jade and about the Manatee benefit.

      She waved to him, trying to flag him down. “Griffin!

      Hey, Griffin!” she called out.

      Griffin stopped. Nancy wasn't sure, but he looked

      sort of annoyed. “Oh, hi,” he muttered.

      “You want to join us?” Nancy said.

      “I'm just on my way out, actually,” Griffin replied.

      “Thanks, anyway.”

      “Before you go, I wanted to ask you some stuff about

      Jade,” Nancy said.

      Griffin hesitated. “I really am in kind of a hurry—”

      Nancy smiled. Why was he acting so unf
    riendly?

      “This'll just take a minute. Okay?” she persisted.

      Griffin put down his tray on the girls' table, pulled

      over a chair, and sat down. “Okay. I really don't like

      talking about her, you know? It brings back a lot of

      memories.” He sounded sad all of a sudden.

      “You poor thing,” Bess sympathized, putting her

      hand on his arm.

      “Thanks for understanding,” Griffin said. Then he

      turned to Nancy. “Okay, what did you want to ask me?

      I'll do the best I can.”

      “Was she—Jade—involved in any environmental

      groups that you know of?” Nancy asked him.

      Griffin shrugged. “No, not that I know of. I mean,

      definitely not. She would have told me if she had

      been.”

      “Do you know if she knew Bill and Esther Drake?”

      Nancy said.

      “You mean those developers? I'm not sure.” Griffin

      added, “Hey, speaking of the Drakes. I saw you guys at

      the Manatee benefit yesterday. Did you have fun?”

      “It was a blast,” Bess said. “Really good shrimp

      cocktail!”

      “We saw you there, too,” Nancy said to Griffin.

      “Who was your friend?” she added.

      Griffin looked confused. “Friend? What friend?”

      “The blond woman,” Nancy said. “You know, long

      purple dress?”

      Griffin shrugged and shook his head. “I'm not sure

      who you're talking about. I was there alone. Maybe it

      was just some stranger I was talking to. I don't know.”

      He scooted his chair back and stood up. “Listen, I

      really do have to run. So if you don't have any more

      questions . . .”

      “If I think of anything else, I know where to find

      you,” Nancy said with a smile.

      Griffin smiled back. Then he waved goodbye and

      headed for the exit.

      After he left, Nancy turned to her friends. “I don't

      think Griffin was completely honest with us,” she said.

      “That blond woman wasn't just some stranger he ran

      into. I wonder what he's hiding?”

      Susan frowned. “Blond woman—blond woman—

      you know, I saw Griffin with her, too. You said she was

      wearing a long purple dress, right?”

      Nancy nodded. “Right.”

      “And she had a purple cell phone,” Susan went on,

      taking a sip of her iced tea. “I remember her phone

      because it was so cool-looking.”

      Nancy started. “Purple cell phone? Are you sure?”

      “Yes, definitely,” Susan replied. “Why?”

      Nancy remembered the woman at the Café Blue

     


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