Dare to read: Нэнси Дрю и Братья Харди
(https://vk.com/daretoreadndrus)
ПРИЯТНОГО ЧТЕНИЯ!
Carolyn Keene
Nancy Drew Mystery Stories: Volume Ninety-Five
The Silent Suspect
Copyright, 1990, by Simon & Schuster
Cover art copyright by Linda Thomas
RAGING FIRES OF MYSTERY!
Nancy's in San Francisco to help Ned's uncle, architect Robert Franklin, investigate a series of suspicious fires at one of his construction sites. Digging into the ashes, she uncovers one very disturbing clue: a bracelet belonging to Franklin's own daughter Lisa.
For reasons she won't reveal, Lisa refuses to explain the evidence against her. Although the police consider Lisa a suspect, Nancy is convinced of her innocence. Following a trail from Fisherman's Wharf to Chinatown, Nancy is determined to smoke out the true arsonist–and save Lisa, THE SILENT SUSPECT, from herself.
Secrets in San Francisco
“Nan? Where are you?”
Nancy Drew jumped in surprise. “Ned? Is that you?” she called. “I’m out in the backyard.”
Nancy sprang to her feet and brushed the dirt off the knees of her jeans. She smoothed back her reddish blond hair just as her longtime boyfriend, Ned Nickerson, walked around the corner of her house. A big grin spread across his face when he saw her.
“Surprise!” Ned called. He picked Nancy up and spun her around in a huge hug. Then he set her back on her feet.
“It’s a terrific surprise!” she told him happily. Her blue eyes sparkled. “But I thought your spring break starts tomorrow.”
“It does,” Ned answered. “But I had only one class this morning so I left school a day early to come see you. Besides,” he added teasingly, “I wouldn’t miss a chance to catch my favorite girl with mud on her face.”
Nancy blushed and lifted a hand to wipe off her cheek.
“Seriously, Nan,” Ned said, “something important has come up. I have a problem, and I thought you could help me.” Suddenly his brown eyes looked anxious.
Nancy was used to helping people. Although she was only eighteen, she’d been an amateur detective for years, and she’d solved dozens of cases. “Come on inside while I clean up,” she told Ned. “We can have some iced tea while you tell me all about it.”
A few minutes later Nancy and Ned were sitting at the big table in the Drews’ cheerful kitchen. Hannah Gruen, the Drews’ housekeeper, set a pitcher of iced tea and a plate of fresh-baked chocolate-chip cookies on the table in front of them. Hannah had lived with the family ever since Nancy’s mother had died, when Nancy was three years old.
“Thanks, Hannah,” Nancy said with a smile. “Those cookies look delicious.”
“They are delicious,” said Ned, taking a large bite.
Nancy turned back to her boyfriend as Hannah left the kitchen. “Tell me about the problem, Ned,” she said eagerly. “Is it some kind of mystery?”
“No, not really,” Ned answered. “It’s more of a personal problem. Do you remember my cousin Lisa Franklin?”
Nancy thought for a minute, then nodded. “I think so,” she said slowly. “I met her once when her family visited River Heights. She’s about my age, isn’t she? From San Francisco? And she’s got a sister, Laurel, who’s a little older?”
“That’s right,” Ned told her.
“Lisa was nice,” Nancy said, remembering. “Very smart and fun to be with. I liked her a lot.”
Ned’s expression was grim. “Lisa was fun to be with,” he said. “Really bubbly, always giggling about something. But that seems to have changed now. Her dad—my uncle Bob—phoned me the other day. He said there’s something really wrong with Lisa. She’s completely changed, he told me. She won’t talk to him. She won’t spend any more time at home than she absolutely has to. Uncle Bob thinks she’s hiding something.”
“Did he tell you what he thinks it is?” Nancy asked.
Ned shook his head. “He wouldn’t say anything more on the phone. But he’s worried enough that he asked me to fly out to San Francisco to try to help. Lisa and I were big pals when we were growing up. I’m the only cousin she has.”
“I see,” said Nancy thoughtfully. “And you thought I might be able to help, too?”
“Well, yes,” Ned admitted. “Would you mind, Nancy? Maybe Lisa just needs to talk to another girl her own age. After all, Lisa’s mother died when Lisa and Laurel were very young. Maybe whatever’s bothering Lisa is something she can’t talk about with her dad. Or with me,” Ned added. “Anyway, I’d hate to have Uncle Bob fly me all the way out there and then not be able to help him. With you along, I’m sure we could solve the problem.”
“I’d love to come,” said Nancy with a smile. “But why can’t Lisa’s sister try to help her?”
“Well, that’s another thing,” Ned said. “Uncle Bob says Lisa won’t talk to Laurel, either. In fact, the way he put it, it almost sounds as if Lisa isn’t speaking to her family at all. And that’s really weird. Lisa and Laurel have always been more like best friends than sisters.” He shook his head. “I just don’t understand what’s going on.”
Nancy frowned and took a sip of her iced tea. “Well, you’re wrong about one thing, Ned,” she told him. “This is a mystery.”
“Then you’ll help?” asked Ned.
“I told you, I’d love to! Besides, things have been way too quiet around here lately. I’ll have to check with Dad, of course, but I think a trip to San Francisco is just what I need.”
“Great,” Ned said happily. “And I’m sure we’ll have plenty of time to go sight-seeing, too.”
“We’d better,” Nancy teased. “San Francisco is one of the most romantic cities in the world. I don’t want to spend all my time being a detective.”
* * *
The late-afternoon sun was low in the sky as Nancy and Ned’s plane began its descent into San Francisco’s international airport. Gazing out of the airplane window, Nancy could see the graceful curves of the Golden Gate Bridge. The sun was sparkling on the water of the bay below.
“It looks beautiful,” she told Ned. “What a great place for a case.”
Ned and Nancy had just picked up their suitcases in the baggage claim area when a thin man in his thirties approached them. He had wiry brown hair and horn-rimmed glasses, and he was wearing a conservative blue blazer and gray flannel pants.
“Excuse me,” the man said. “Are you, by any chance, Ms. Drew and Mr. Nickerson?”
“Yes, we are,” Nancy answered for both of them.
The man broke into a wide grin. “Great,” he said, sounding relieved. “I’m Christopher Toomey. I work for Mr. Franklin. He sent me to pick you up.”
“That was nice of him,” Nancy said, smiling back.
“I see you have your bags already,” Mr. Toomey said. “We’ll be in time for dinner, then. Mr. Franklin likes everyone to be on time for meals,” he added, bending to pick up their suitcases.
“Oh, that’s okay,” said Ned quickly. “We can carry—”
“It’s my pleasure,” said Mr. Toomey. “We want you to feel welcome here.” Suitcases in hand, he led Ned and Nancy toward a long walkway. “Parking’s in this direction,” he said over his shoulder. “I’m right at the curb.”
Christopher Toomey led them up to a gleaming black Lincoln and opened the trunk. As he stacked their suitcases inside, Ned asked, “Are you having dinner with us, too?”
“Oh, yes.” Mr. Toomey shrugged. “I almost always have dinner with the Franklins. I’m practically one of the family. I’m very important to the firm, you see.”
He bustled to the car’s back door and opened it with a flourish. Nancy and Ned exchanged an amused look as they climbed in. Mr. Toomey certainly thinks he’s important, anyway! Nancy said to herself. But he did seem very nice.
“I didn’t realize Uncle Bob had a partner,” Ned said pleasantly as they pulled away from the curb.
Mr. Toomey’s face flushed. “Well, I’m not a partner, exactly,” he said. “But it’s just myself and Laurel working with Mr. Franklin in his office. Both of us are quite valuable to Mr. Franklin.”
“I see,” said Nancy. She didn’t dare look over at Ned. “I didn’t know Laurel was already an architect.”
Mr. Toomey nodded. “She received her degree last year. She’s only twenty-four, but she worked very hard and finished school a year early.” He paused. “Lisa is supposed to do the same thing.”
Nancy sat up straighter. This was the first time Lisa’s name had been mentioned. Maybe Mr. Toomey could shed some light on Lisa’s character. After all, he had probably seen Lisa quite often. Sometimes people outside a family noticed things that family members didn’t.
“Lisa must be very smart,” Nancy remarked casually.
“She skipped several grades in school,” Ned answered. “She’s only nineteen, but she’s already a college senior. She’s a real whiz in math. After Lisa graduates from college, she’ll go to architecture school. In the meantime she works for her dad whenever she can. Uncle Bob told me Lisa’s at the firm on weekends and during vacations.”
“That doesn’t leave her much time for fun, does it?” asked Nancy.
“Fun!” Christopher Toomey snorted. “She doesn’t have time for fun! Mr. Franklin has a very successful business. Lisa is going to run it someday. She’s got to work hard!”
“Wait a minute,” Nancy said. “What about Laurel? She’s older, and she’s already working for Mr. Franklin. Wouldn’t Laurel run the business?”
Mr. Toomey shrugged. “Lisa is her father’s favorite,” he said, frowning as he edged the car into the freeway traffic.
Hmm, Nancy thought. It sounds as though there may be a family problem. Does that have anything to do with Lisa’s acting so strangely?
Nancy turned and stared out the car window. Beyond the freeway San Francisco Bay glittered in the late-afternoon sunshine. The car took them past gleaming white stucco houses surrounded by palm trees and tropical plants. When Mr. Toomey took an exit into the city of San Francisco itself, the streets became quite narrow. The car climbed one steep hill after another, rising and plunging abruptly. At the end of each street Nancy could see past rooftops to the bay.
“This is beautiful!” Nancy exclaimed.
Ned grinned. “I arranged it all for you,” he murmured.
After about ten minutes of driving, they turned onto a narrow street where the houses were large and set back on broad, manicured lawns. Most of the houses were surrounded by bright tropical flowers and spiky green plants that Nancy recognized as yuccas.
Mr. Toomey pulled the car into a steep driveway that led up a hill. Soon Nancy saw a large white house with a red tile roof and whitewashed stucco walls. Its windows had black wrought-iron grilles covered with green ivy.
“Here we are,” Mr. Toomey announced. “I’ll take you in right away and get your bags later. Mr. Franklin is waiting.”
A middle-aged woman with gray hair met them at the front door. “I’m Mrs. Truitt, the Franklins’ housekeeper,” she said with a warm smile. “I’d be happy to help you unpack later, if you’d like. If there’s anything you need, please let me know.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Truitt,” said Nancy. “That’s very nice of you.”
“I think Mr. Franklin is expecting Nancy and Ned in the living room,” Mr. Toomey broke in.
Mrs. Truitt nodded. “Of course.”
Mr. Toomey led Nancy and Ned across the hallway and into a huge living room. It was a handsome room, with Oriental rugs on the floor, white furniture, and a gleaming grand piano at one end. But somehow the room was so formal that it looked to Nancy as if no one ever used it. Even the needlepoint pillows on the sofa were lined up in precise rows.
Mr. Franklin had been standing by the piano. Now he turned to greet them, extending a hand to Ned. “Glad you could make it, Ned,” he said. “It’s good to see you again.” His voice sounded polite but cold, Nancy thought, not very welcoming at all.
Robert Franklin was about fifty, with gray hair and steel blue eyes that looked piercingly at Nancy as Ned introduced her.
“I’m happy to meet you, Nancy,” he said, giving her a firm handshake. “Why don’t the two of you sit down?”
“I’ll go ask Mrs. Truitt for some iced tea,” said Mr. Toomey. He headed quickly out toward the kitchen.
“My daughters are still at the office,” said Mr. Franklin. “They’ll join us later on.”
“Lisa’s working already?” Ned asked, surprised.
“Her semester break started today,” Mr. Franklin told him. “I made sure she got right to work.”
Some vacation! Nancy thought. Aloud, she asked, “What exactly do Lisa and Laurel do at the office, Mr. Franklin?”
“Well, Laurel’s working on the design of a major project of mine,” Mr. Franklin told her. “Lisa is supposed to be helping her.” He sighed. “But I’m afraid she won’t be much help the way things are going.” He broke off as Mr. Toomey came in, carrying a tray with a pitcher and several glasses. “Thanks, Christopher. Just put that on the coffee table,” Mr. Franklin said. He turned back to Nancy and Ned as Mr. Toomey sat down.
“So things aren’t getting better?” Ned asked.
Mr. Franklin sighed again. “I just don’t know what’s wrong with Lisa. She isn’t herself at all. I certainly hope you two can find out what’s bothering her.”
“We’ll try,” said Nancy. “Does Lisa work at the office every weekend, Mr. Franklin?”
“That’s right,” he answered. “During the week she stays in the dorm at college. She’s at San Rafael University, about thirty miles north of here.”
“That’s where Uncle Bob went to school,” Ned told Nancy.
“It’s a fine school,” said Mr. Franklin. “San Rafael has one of the best architecture departments in the country. Laurel went there also, so you might say Lisa’s following in the family tradition.” Mr. Franklin frowned. “She should be grateful. It’s a wonderful opportunity. Instead, she’s got this crazy idea of dropping out!”
He fixed his gaze on Ned. “That’s one of the main reasons I’ve asked you here,” he said. “I want you to make sure Lisa stays in school. I’ll be frank with you, Ned. I’m a very busy man. I don’t have time for all this nonsense. Lisa works for me only part-time, and she has a lot to learn. But someday she’s going to be a talented architect. I can’t let anything, or anyone, interfere with that.”
He sounds as though the only problem with Lisa is that she’s standing in the way of his plans, Nancy thought. He doesn’t seem worried about Lisa’s feelings at all. Maybe—
Just then a car screeched to a halt outside the house. There was the sound of a car door slamming. Then the tires screeched again as the car sped away. In the front hall the door banged open and shut.
A young woman appeared in the living room doorway. She was wearing a short black skirt and a black-and-white T-shirt. She was Nancy’s height and very slender, with dark, wavy hair cut short to frame her pretty face. But right now that face was flushed and angry-looking. The young woman’s brown eyes were bright with hostility as she surveyed the group in the living room.
“Lisa!” said Mr. Franklin in surprise. “I thought you were working late tonight. Did something go wrong at the office?”
Lisa Franklin gave her father a sullen look. “I’m not home early,” she said. “I quit. I hate that office, and I’m never going back to work there again. Not for the rest of my life!”
Threats and Tears
There was a shocked silence in the living room. Lisa threw her briefcase onto the sofa and turned to walk away.
“Now, wait just a minute, young lady!” said her father sternly. “What’s all this talk about quitting. A Franklin never quits.”
For a second Lisa’s eyes met Nancy’s. To Nancy’s surprise, the other girl looked worried—almost afraid.
“Lisa, I’m speaking to you,” Mr. Franklin said. It sounded like a warning.
Lisa remained silent. She opened her mouth, but closed it on whatever she’d been about to say. Then, bursting into tears, she dashed from the room. A moment later Nancy heard Lisa running up the stairs.
“Now you can see what I’m talking about!” Mr. Franklin told Ned angrily.
“I, uh, sure do,” said Ned. “Uncle Bob, would it be okay if I went up and tried to talk to her?”
Mr. Franklin sighed. “Go ahead. I’m sure you’ll have better luck than I did.”
With a quick smile to Nancy, Ned crossed the room and headed upstairs.
“This whole thing couldn’t have come at a worse time,” said Mr. Franklin. “I happen to be working on a very big project right now. It’s an expensive condominium complex called Franklin Place. Lisa will learn a lot by working on this project. She simply can’t quit!”
Mr. Franklin was starting to sound awfully selfish to Nancy. She leaned forward and asked politely, “Excuse me for asking, Mr. Franklin, but have you ever asked Lisa if she likes working so much?”
Mr. Toomey glanced uncomfortably at his boss. Mr. Franklin’s answer came immediately.
“There’s no need to ask her a question like that,” he said. “I’ve always dreamed of having both my daughters in the firm with me, but especially Lisa. Besides, I worked twice as hard when I was Lisa’s age.”
Nancy gave him a friendly smile. “Maybe Lisa doesn’t want to quit completely,” she said gently. “Maybe she just needs some time to make up her own mind about her future.”
Mr. Franklin glared at Nancy. “Ms. Drew, that kind of suggestion isn’t very useful. I’m delighted to have you here helping Ned— if you’re going to help him. But speculating about things you can’t possibly understand...” His voice trailed away.
Finally, Mr. Franklin continued. “I’m a busy man, but Lisa has always had everything she wanted. She has no reason for grievances. Why, I—”
To Nancy’s relief, Ned walked back into the room just then. “No luck,” he said, shaking his head. “I tried, Uncle Bob, but she wouldn’t even open her door. Maybe you’ll be able to get somewhere, Nancy.”
“We’ll see about that,” said Mr. Franklin. Abruptly, he stood up. “I’ll call Mrs. Truitt to show you to your rooms,” he said.
“I’d be glad to do that,” Mr. Toomey put in quickly.
For just a moment Mr. Franklin seemed to relax. “That’s very considerate, Christopher,” he said with a slight nod as the younger man left the room. Then he turned back to Ned and Nancy. “Ned, you’ll stay in the guest room. Nancy, I’m afraid the other spare bed is in Lisa’s room. Anyway, you’ll get a chance to ask her all the questions you want. Whether she’ll answer them, I don’t know.”
“Thanks, Uncle Bob,” Ned said quickly. “I’m sure that will work out fine.” He beckoned Nancy to follow him out into the hall, where Mr. Toomey was entering with their suitcases. The two of them followed Mr. Toomey up the stairs.
Ned put his hand on Nancy’s arm as they reached the top. “Sorry about Uncle Bob,” he said quietly. “He sounded as though he was being pretty rude to you.”
“He seems like the type who’s rude to everyone,” Nancy said with a shrug. “I didn’t take it personally. But I do feel a little sorry for Lisa.”
Ned squeezed her hand. “I feel sorry for her, too. But I have a feeling she’s not going to make things easy on you. It’s too bad you have to share her room.”
“I’m not worried,” Nancy said. “I’m sure we’ll get along fine.”
And even if we don’t, she thought, sharing a room with Lisa will help me find out more about her, whether she wants me to or not.
Mr. Toomey was waiting for them halfway down the hall. “Here’s your bedroom, Nancy,” he said. “Ned, yours is at the end of the hall.”
“Okay,” said Ned. “I’ll unpack and meet you downstairs for dinner, okay, Nan?” He smiled encouragingly at her.
“Sure thing,” Nancy said, smiling back.
Lisa’s door was closed. Nancy tapped lightly, but there was no answer. She turned the knob and pushed the door open a crack. The room was empty.
One of the beds inside was unmade and rumpled. Nancy put her suitcase on the other bed and began to unpack. Now and then she glanced around the room.
The room didn’t give her many clues about Lisa’s personality. The room was decorated in soft shades of rose and ivory, with watercolor prints of famous cathedrals on the walls. The top of Lisa’s bureau was bare, but her desk was covered with neat stacks of drawing paper, pens, and drawing tools. The wide bookcase extending across one wall was filled almost entirely with books about architecture.
Hmm, thought Nancy. All work and no play. But somehow, even the brief glimpse she’d had of Lisa didn’t fit that description. And hadn’t Ned told her that his cousin had been a lot of fun before she’d started acting so strangely?
Nancy washed her face quickly in the bathroom that adjoined Lisa’s bedroom. Then she changed into fresh clothes and brushed her hair. It was almost dinnertime, and Mr. Toomey had said that Mr. Franklin hated people being late to dinner.
Ned was just leaving his room as Nancy walked out into the hall. “Any luck?” he asked in a low voice.
Nancy shook her head. “Lisa’s not there, Ned. I don’t know where she went. I’m sure I’ll get a chance to talk to her before bedtime, though.”
“I’m wondering whether Laurel comes into this at all,” Ned said as they started downstairs. “I never noticed before how Uncle Bob seems to favor Lisa. Don’t you think that would drive Laurel crazy?”
“Maybe,” Nancy replied. “But I don’t want to make any assumptions about Laurel before I’ve met her. Anyway, even if Laurel is jealous, that doesn’t explain why Lisa’s so upset.”
“Well, we’ve got lots of time to work things out,” said Ned. “Besides, I’m starving. That snack they gave us on the plane seems an awfully long time ago.”
When they reached the dining room, Nancy was startled to see that it was set for a formal dinner. Gold-rimmed plates, heavy silverware, and sterling candlesticks were lined up with absolute precision on the white tablecloth. A massive flower arrangement sat in the exact center of the table. Above it hung a brass chandelier that was so ornate and heavy-looking that Nancy couldn’t help worrying that it might crash down on the table.
Mr. Franklin was already standing at the head of the table. There was a look of slight disapproval on his face, as though he resented having been kept waiting for even a few seconds. Mr. Toomey was standing at a place farther down the table. And across from Mr. Franklin stood a serious-looking young woman in a blue dress.
“Hi, Laurel!” said Ned, crossing the room to kiss her. “It’s great to see you again!”
Laurel gave him a strained, anxious smile. “It’s nice to see you, too,” she said.
Nancy noticed the young woman’s resemblance to Lisa. Everything about Laurel, however, seemed more subdued. Her hair was a mousier shade of brown, and it was straight instead of curly. She was paler than her sister, and her clothes looked prim and out of style. Laurel kept glancing timidly at her father as though she were waiting for his approval.
Ned smiled warmly at Nancy. “Remember Nancy Drew, Laurel?” he asked. “You met her back in River Heights.”
“Oh, yes,” said Laurel faintly, nodding in Nancy’s direction.
That was all. There was an awkward pause, which Nancy finally broke. “Well, I can hardly wait to see more of San Francisco,” she said. “It looked great from the car.”
This time Laurel’s eyes lit up. “Oh, it is,” she said. “We have some of the finest architecture in the country.”
Mr. Franklin looked impatiently at his watch. “Where’s Lisa?” he asked with a frown. “She’s late.”
Laurel gave him another one of her nervous glances. “Why don’t we all sit down, Dad?” she suggested. “I—I’m sure Lisa will be here in a minute.”
“Oh, all right,” answered her father in a disgruntled voice. He pulled out his chair and sat down. The rest of the table followed suit. Then a second tense pause fell across the room as everyone tried to think of something to say.
Well, this certainly isn’t one big happy family, Nancy thought. Mr. Franklin was so stern, Laurel was nervous, and Lisa so angry. She didn’t understand exactly where Christopher Toomey fit in. What did he make of all this?
Mr. Franklin cleared his throat. “Go upstairs and find your sister, please,” he told Laurel. “Tell her that—”
“I’m here,” came a sullen voice from the doorway.
Everyone looked up as Lisa entered the dining room and took her seat.
Lisa had changed her casual skirt and T-shirt for black leggings, black boots, a black turtleneck, and an oversize black jacket. On Lisa’s wrist was a single gold bracelet. The wide, curved band caught the light from the chandelier as Lisa flicked her napkin off the table.
Nancy smiled at Lisa. “That’s a really nice outfit,” she said.
Lisa stared at her plate in reply. Nancy saw that her eyes were still red.
“Where are your manners, Lisa?” asked Mr. Franklin angrily. “You just received a compliment!”
“Oh, that’s okay,” said Nancy quickly. She didn’t want to make Lisa more upset than she already was. She had a feeling it would only make Lisa close up even more.
Suddenly Laurel spoke up. “It isn’t okay!” she said hotly. “Lisa’s acting like a spoiled brat. All she does is mope around, and she gets away with it!”
Lisa turned to her sister. “I’m surprised you even notice!” she flared. “You never pay any attention to me!”
“That’s enough, girls,” said Mr. Franklin sternly. “Could we just try to have a pleasant meal for once? We have guests, for heaven’s sake! And that reminds me. Lisa, tomorrow you should show Ned and Nancy around Franklin Place.”
Lisa jumped up so fast that she knocked over her water glass. Water streamed to the floor, but everyone was too startled to do anything about it.
“I’m not showing anybody anything,” she said between clenched teeth. “I hate that place. I wish it would burn to the ground. Then you’d all be sorry!”
Before anyone could say a word, she ran from the dining room.
Mr. Franklin slapped his napkin onto the table. “Well, here we go again,” he said. “Another meal ruined, courtesy of Lisa!”
* * *
Nancy walked into the bedroom with a sigh of relief. The meal itself had been wonderful, but Lisa hadn’t come back, and the dinner-table conversation had never really gotten going. The end of dinner had been welcomed by everyone.
Downstairs, Mr. Franklin had just announced that coffee was going to be served in the library. Nancy had slipped upstairs for a moment to get some aspirin from her purse. Whether it was stress or just the long day she’d had, she could definitely feel the beginning of a headache coming on.
What a messed-up family, Nancy thought as she took her purse off the bed. Whatever Lisa’s problem was, living in the Franklin house could only make it worse. Or maybe it was living there that was causing the problem.
Suddenly Nancy heard a sound coming from the hall. It sounded like Lisa’s voice. And she sounded as if she was crying.
Nancy tiptoed to the doorway and listened for a moment. The sound was coming from the opposite end of the long hall, across from Ned’s room. She walked quietly toward it.
The other two bedroom doors were open, and Nancy could see that no one was inside. She was about to give up when she noticed a telephone cord stretched across the hallway. It ran from a table standing between two of the bedrooms and around a corner at the very end of the hall. Nancy peeked around the corner and saw a small nook by a back stairway.
Lisa was curled up inside the space with her back to Nancy. She was clutching the telephone close to her mouth, and her slender shoulders were shaking with sobs beneath the black jacket. Nancy couldn’t help feeling a pang of sympathy. Obviously, whatever was bothering Lisa was more than some trivial family problem.
She was turning to leave Lisa in privacy when the girl’s voice suddenly rose.
“I’m telling you, he’ll be sorry. I’ll make him sorry!” she cried. “When I’m done with him, he won’t even know what hit him!”
3. Fire!
Lisa slammed down the receiver, and Nancy ducked behind the guest-room door. She was just in time, too. Lisa walked swiftly down the hall toward the stairs. A few seconds later the front door slammed.
Well! Nancy thought. Lisa Franklin certainly had a dramatic way of making an exit! Did she ever just walk out of a room like an ordinary person?
Nancy headed toward the stairs herself. She hoped she’d be able to catch Ned alone in the library so she could tell him what she’d overheard.
But as she walked into the oak-paneled room lined with hundreds of books, she saw that Mr. Franklin, Laurel, and Mr. Toomey were there already. Mr. Franklin and Mr. Toomey were studying an architectural magazine. Ned looked as if he were trying to draw Laurel into conversation, but he wasn’t having much luck. Laurel kept biting her lip and staring out the window.
“Nancy! There you are at last. Was Lisa upstairs?” asked Mr. Franklin, glancing up from the magazine.
“Uh—I didn’t run into her,” said Nancy. It wasn’t exactly a lie, she thought to herself. After all, Lisa hadn’t seen her.
Laurel pursed her lips. “She probably sneaked out of the house to meet her boyfriend,” she said with a sidelong glance at her father.
“Her boyfriend?” echoed Nancy.
Laurel shrugged. “I wouldn’t be surprised. He’s always showing up when you least expect him.”
“What’s his name?” asked Ned.
“Richard Bates,” answered Laurel. “That’s all I know about him, except that Lisa met him at college. He lives in an apartment off campus. She hasn’t told me anything else.”
Nancy looked over at Ned. “Maybe we should talk to Richard Bates,” she said. “He might know what’s bothering Lisa.”
“If you ask me, he’s what’s bothering her,” snapped Mr. Franklin angrily. “Richard is a terrible influence on Lisa.”
“In what way?” asked Nancy in surprise.
“That young man is steering her off the right path. Lisa should be studying hard and working for me, the way Laurel did. She can learn plenty while she’s still in school. Even if photocopying and running errands don’t seem like much to her, she’ll be finding out how an architecture office works. Then, after she graduates, she’ll know what to expect when she comes to work officially at the firm. She can take her place alongside Laurel, creating designs, or she can work with Christopher to oversee the building process for each project.”
Doesn’t Lisa get to make up her own mind about any of this? Nancy wanted to ask. But there was no point in making Mr. Franklin even angrier. “And her boyfriend keeps her from doing that?” she said aloud.
“That’s right,” said Mr. Franklin. “He takes her mind away from her work.” He broke off as Mrs. Truitt came into the room with the coffee. “Thank you, Mrs. Truitt,” he said.
The interruption seemed to have distracted him, for Mr. Franklin suddenly pulled a thick leather scrapbook from one of the bookshelves. He held the book out to Ned and Nancy. “I’d like you to see some of my work,” he said proudly.
Nancy stood up to look over Ned’s shoulder as Mr. Franklin slowly turned the page. Laurel and Mr. Toomey watched in silence.
The buildings in the scrapbook were all quite handsome: elegant, classical-looking structures that fit in well with their surroundings. Nancy recognized a few of the more famous buildings, but none of them seemed particularly exciting to her. She was no architect, of course, but the structures were all a bit conservative for her taste.
Once again Nancy kept her thoughts to herself. “I’m very impressed,” she told Mr. Franklin. “These are just beautiful.” Ned nodded in agreement.
Mr. Franklin smiled broadly—a real smile this time. “I’m glad you like them,” he said. “Now take a look at my newest creation!”
He closed the scrapbook and opened an oak cabinet with wide, shallow drawers built to hold large sheets of paper. “These are copies of the plans for Franklin Place,” he told Nancy and Ned, pulling out a stack of drawings. He began flipping through them, one after another.
Like Mr. Franklin’s other work, the designs were solidly classical. Franklin Place, it seemed, would be a handsome apartment building that might easily have been built fifty years before. But there was no denying that it would be an attractive spot to live in.
“It’s great, Uncle Bob,” Ned said. “Really terrific.”
“Everything’s the best that money can buy,” Mr. Franklin boasted.
Nancy caught Ned’s eye and wondered if he was thinking the same thing she was: It would be nice if Mr. Franklin was as proud of his daughters as he was of Franklin Place.
“Christopher, would you mind getting out the blueprints?” Mr. Franklin asked his associate. Mr. Toomey immediately opened another drawer and lifted out a set of blueprints that showed the construction details for every floor.
Nancy had never realized how much planning went into a building. Everything in Franklin Place seemed to have been accounted for, from the wall outlets to the telephone cables.
“I’m overwhelmed!” Nancy said at last. “Designing a building is so much work.”
Unexpectedly, Laurel spoke up. “It is a lot of work,” she agreed. “But it’s fun, too. I love doing the math for the calculations and designing how it will all look. And working with Dad is great.” Her eyes glowed with excitement. “He’s a genius. I’m learning so much.”
“That’s great, honey,” said Mr. Franklin kindly. Then he sighed. “I only wish your sister felt the same way you do. She’s going to be a brilliant success someday.” He bent his head to the blueprints and began to study them.
Laurel gave a little gasp, and her face flushed scarlet. Biting her lip, she turned away from her father and began awkwardly pleating the hem of her skirt between her fingers.
Ned cleared his throat before the silence in the room became too painful. “Uh, Uncle Bob, how much of Franklin Place is already built?” he asked.
“Well, the foundation is laid,” Mr. Franklin told him. “The framing’s done, too, and we’ve got the first three floors drywalled. We’re right on schedule.”
“Speaking of schedules,” Mr. Toomey put in, “I wonder if you might have time to go over the electrical plans with me, sir? I do have a call in to the electricians. It would be nice to—”
Mr. Franklin was already on his feet. “All right, Christopher, let’s get busy,” he said. He turned to Nancy, Ned, and Laurel. “Would you mind excusing us?”
That seemed to mean they should leave.
As the three of them walked out of the library, Nancy turned to Laurel. “Do you have a minute?” she asked. “Ned and I would love to talk to you.”
“Sure,” Laurel said. She hesitated. “But if it’s about Lisa, I don’t really have much to say.”
“That’s fine,” said Nancy. “Shall we sit down in here?” She paused at the living room door.
Laurel sighed and entered the room. She sat down gingerly on the very edge of the nearest chair. She looked uncomfortable, as if she didn’t want to be there at all.
Ned gave Nancy a warning glance. Be careful, he seemed to be telling her.
Nancy did her best. “Well, I’d really like to know a little more about Richard Bates,” she said pleasantly.
Laurel shrugged. At that moment she looked very much like her sister. “I already told you, I don’t know much about him. But I agree with Dad—he’s a bad influence on Lisa.”
“Even though you don’t know him?” Nancy asked gently.
Laurel stiffened.
“I was wondering if you might be a little angry at Lisa,” Nancy continued quickly. She knew this was a risky topic, but she couldn’t see any subtle way to bring it up.
“Why would I be?” Laurel asked, looking at the floor.
“Well, I know this is none of my business,” Nancy said, keeping her tone friendly. “But if I were you, I might be a little upset that my younger sister was supposed to take over the business someday.”
Laurel colored deeply. “Lisa’s very smart,” she told Nancy. “Even smarter than I was at her age.” She leaned forward. “But I really love the architecture business. Lisa doesn’t. It isn’t fair that Lisa should get to run the firm someday. She’s an ungrateful, spoiled brat.”
There was a sudden noise, and Nancy looked up to see Lisa standing in the living room doorway. It was clear from her expression that she had heard everything Laurel had said.
Lisa stared at her sister. Then she turned without a word and ran toward the stairs.
“This time I’ll catch up with her,” Nancy told Ned, starting for the door.
Lisa was in her bedroom, throwing open the bureau drawers. She didn’t look up as Nancy entered the room. Nancy hesitated, then sat on the end of her bed.
“Lisa, I’m sorry you heard what Laurel said. I know she hurt your feelings. But you can’t blame her, really.”
“I don’t care how she feels!” Lisa said angrily. “No one ever asks me what I want, or how I want to live my life. They just tell me what I’m supposed to do!”
“That is hard,” Nancy said sympathetically. Whatever trouble Lisa might be causing, at least some of her problems clearly came from the way her father was treating her.
For a moment the guarded look left Lisa’s eyes. When she spoke again, her tone was warmer. “I was rude to you before,” she said. “I’m sorry. Things are just a mess lately. And there’s no way you could possibly understand what’s going on.”
“Do you feel like telling me about it, though?” Nancy asked carefully. “Sometimes it helps to talk to someone who isn’t part of the family.”
Lisa looked down as she spoke. “Well, maybe,” she said slowly. “I guess you’ve gotten sort of a—an impression of my father, right?”
Nancy paused. “He certainly seems to have strong opinions about what you should be doing,” she said.
“That’s exactly the problem!” Lisa exploded. “I’m nineteen, and he acts like some Victorian father in a book or something! Honestly, I—”
The words poured out in a torrent. Mr. Franklin didn’t appreciate Lisa for who she really was. He couldn’t imagine that she might want a life of her own. He compared her with Laurel all the time. “Not that I should mind so much,” said Lisa with a bitter laugh. “I mean, I usually come out okay in comparison. But—”
And so it went. Nancy was sure that Lisa was finally letting out feelings she’d been holding back for months. But Lisa never said anything about what was specifically bothering her.
After all, Nancy reasoned, probably Mr. Franklin had always been like that. Why was Lisa suddenly so upset now?
And what had been the meaning of that phone call?
As Lisa talked, Nancy noticed that Lisa’s mind was wandering. Several times she broke off in midsentence and glanced anxiously around the room. Twice she forgot what she’d been saying and had to start over. Finally Nancy asked, “Is something else the matter?”
Lisa gave a start. “Oh! No, not really. Sorry, Nancy. I—I was just thinking about something I lost. A bracelet.”
Nancy saw that the gold bracelet she’d noticed earlier was missing from Lisa’s wrist. “Where did you lose it?” she asked.
“Oh, I don’t know,” said Lisa with a shrug. She sounded as if she were trying to be casual. “I’m sure it’s around somewhere.” Abruptly she stood up. “It’s been nice talking to you, Nancy. Thanks for listening, but I’d like to be alone right now.”
“I understand,” Nancy said. She left the bedroom and walked quickly down the stairs.
Ned and Laurel were chatting quietly in the living room. “Well? How did it go?” asked Ned as Nancy entered.
“I don’t know,” said Nancy. “I don’t think Lisa really told me anything new. She said I couldn’t understand what’s going on.”
Laurel shook her head. “Lisa may just be making everything into a big deal, the way she always does. She likes attention, if you haven’t already figured that out.” Laurel yawned. “Time for me to get to bed,” she said. “ I plan to be at the office early tomorrow morning, no matter what Lisa does. I’ll just stop in at the library to say good night to my father.”
“So Lisa has more or less told me there is some kind of mystery, and her sister wants me to think there isn’t,” Nancy said after Laurel had left the room. “Whom should I believe?”
Ned reached over and squeezed her shoulder. “Why don’t you stop thinking about both of them for now?” he said. “Let’s go out, just the two of us. I did promise you some fun while we’re here in San Francisco.”
“You’re right,” Nancy said. “I’d love to go out. Besides, it’s your vacation. You should have some fun, too.”
“Let’s go ask Laurel or Uncle Bob if they have any good ideas about a place to go,” said Ned. “And we’ll have to borrow a car.”
When Nancy and Ned walked into the library, Laurel, her father, and Mr. Toomey were going over building plans together. Laurel wasn’t going to get to bed right away after all, Nancy thought.
“Hello, kids,” said Mr. Franklin, straightening up. “What can I do for you?”
“Well, we were wondering if you could suggest—” Ned began.
Suddenly the phone rang. Mr. Franklin picked it up immediately.
As he listened, his face turned ash white. He gasped, dropped the phone, and leaned back in his chair.
Mr. Toomey leapt up and grabbed the dangling telephone receiver. He listened briefly, then hung up the phone.
“What is it?” Laurel asked.
There was a look of horror on Robert Franklin’s face. “That was my night watchman,” he said weakly. “Franklin Place is burning down!”
A Likely Suspect
“Oh, no!” gasped Laurel. “Dad, what will we do?”
Mr. Franklin clenched his fists. “I’ve got to get hold of myself,” he said through gritted teeth. Then, with a burst of energy, he jumped to his feet. “Christopher, let’s get over there,” he said.
“Right away, Mr. Franklin,” answered Mr. Toomey. His thin face was creased with concern as he and his boss ran from the room.
Laurel raced after them. “Wait, I’m coming too!”
Ned grabbed Nancy’s hand. “I’ll get Lisa,” he said. “Maybe we can follow in her car.” He ran to the stairs and called, “Lisa! Lisa, get down here fast!”
Lisa’s face appeared at the top of the stairs. “What’s going on?” she asked.
When Ned told her, she turned pale. “Oh, no!” she whispered. “It—it can’t be!”
“Well, it is,” Ned said grimly. “Can you drive us to Franklin Place?”
Lisa was halfway down the stairs. “Let’s go!”
But when the three of them arrived, they could see that there had been no point in hurrying.
Franklin Place was totally swallowed by flames that lit the darkness with a nightmarish orange glow. Lisa parked her car next to Mr. Franklin’s Lincoln. When she, Nancy, and Ned stepped out of the car, the heat was intense. There was a scorched smell of destruction in the air.
“This is awful,” Lisa moaned, standing next to Nancy. In the orange light her face was filled with horror.
A firefighter, his face streaked with black, ran toward them. “Stand back, please!” he ordered.
“Is—is it going to burn to the ground?” Lisa faltered.
“Looks that way,” the fireman answered. “We’re doing all we can, but the building’s too far gone to save much.”
Nancy could see that he was right. Everywhere she looked, firefighters were aiming powerful hoses at the flames, but the blaze crackled on. The building’s walls were sheets of flame, its steel girders red-hot, and huge sections were crumbling. There was no way to save Franklin Place.
Then Nancy spotted Mr. Franklin. He was standing stock-still as he watched his beloved project disappear before his eyes. Laurel was right beside him, sobbing. Mr. Franklin patted Laurel’s shoulder absently, but he continued staring straight ahead.
Mr. Toomey walked up to Nancy, Ned, and Lisa. He looked stunned and sickened. “This is a terrible thing,” he said gravely. “All those months of work, all that money spent—if only there were something I could do.” He gave a short, humorless laugh. “But the firefighters have made it pretty clear I’d only be in the way.”
“You would be.” Lisa’s voice was harsh. “There’s nothing any of us can do.”
“Lisa, you don’t have to be so rude!” Mr. Toomey protested. “I mean, we’re all under a lot of stress, but—”
“Stress? Franklin Place is burning down, and you’re talking about stress?” Lisa shouted. Then she swallowed hard. “I can’t take any more of this,” she said, trying visibly to control herself. “I’m going to wait by the car for a while.”
“I’ll keep you company,” Ned offered, and Lisa nodded silently. Ned turned to Nancy. “Will you be okay if I—”
“Go ahead,” Nancy told him. “I want to look around a little anyway.” She looked at Mr. Toomey. “Please excuse me,” she said.
Not that there was anything she expected to turn up. But her investigations had taught Nancy to keep her eyes open whenever anything out of the ordinary happened.
Besides, if she wanted to investigate the building site, now was the time. Nancy knew she had to work quickly. Even after the flames had been extinguished, the firefighters would still be working for hours to make sure the fire didn’t flare up again. Ashes could smolder below the ground for days after a fire. The site would be carefully watched. Outsiders would not be welcome. She had to take advantage of the confusion now to make her investigation.
Nancy felt sweat pour down her face. The heat in the air was terrible. Even the ground was roasting. It was so hot that Nancy could feel it through her shoes. The noise of the fire was terrible, too. There was a crackling of the blaze itself, the hiss of steam, the firefighters’ hoarse shouts, and in the distance, the wails of more engines rushing to the scene.
Keeping carefully behind the firefighters, Nancy circled the entire building site. She passed a trailer parked behind the site and wondered absently whether it might catch fire, too.
Nancy moved quickly but kept her eyes down, scanning as much of the ground as she could. It seemed hopeless. She kept stumbling over piles of smoking rubble, and there were many places she couldn’t get close to because of the danger. Finally, she made her way back to the front of the building.
There she saw Mr. Toomey and Mr. Franklin standing near the fire trucks. Behind them was a group of reporters. They were all listening to a husky man wearing firefighters’ protective clothing and a large badge. He must be the fire chief, Nancy thought.
Suddenly the chief spotted her. “Hey, get away from that building!” he shouted, waving his arms frantically. “What do you think you’re doing? Come over here!”
Nancy took one more glance around before hurrying toward him. “Who do you think you are, prowling so close?” the chief yelled.
Mr. Franklin stepped forward. “This is Nancy Drew. She’s a guest at my house.”
“I’m sorry, Chief,” Nancy said. “But I was being very careful. I’m a—”
The chief interrupted her. “Civilians don’t belong around dangerous fires,” he scolded.
“I’m not exactly a civilian,” Nancy began again. “I’m a private investigator, and—”
Again the chief cut her off. “Ms. Drew, we’re very busy,” he said. “We have a fire to fight. We don’t have time to play detective. Why don’t you just let us do our jobs?”
“He’s right, Nancy,” said Mr. Franklin. “Why don’t you and Ned go home with Lisa and wait for me there?”
“Fine,” Nancy said. But just as she turned to leave, a faint gleam on the ground caught her eye. She reached down to the dirt, and her fingers tangled in a piece of string. She lifted the string, and a hard, bright object came up with it.
Nancy gave a cry of astonishment. The object was Lisa’s bracelet!
“What have you got there?” the fire chief asked.
Nancy held up the bracelet with the string tangled around it. “This,” she said.
She looked quickly at Mr. Franklin. He didn’t seem very interested.
Should I tell him and the chief that it’s Lisa’s? Nancy wondered. Somehow it seemed wrong to give the chief that information while Mr. Franklin was standing right there. If Mr. Franklin really didn’t recognize the bracelet, wouldn’t it be better to warn him in private that it belonged to his daughter? Nancy couldn’t just surprise him with a fact like that in public—especially when she still wasn’t sure whether finding the bracelet here was significant at all.
Nancy handed the fire chief the bracelet. He stared at it for a moment, turning it over in his hand. “Do you think that could have something to do with the fire?” Nancy asked him carefully.
He shrugged. “Could be, but there’s always a lot of junk around a construction site.” He handed the bracelet back to Nancy. “Why don’t you hang on to this? If I decide it’s important, I’ll give you a call.”
“Any clues as to how the fire started, Chief?” a reporter called out.
As the chief began to speak, Nancy walked to the back of the crowd of reporters. She listened for a few minutes, then hurried back to Lisa’s car. Ned and Lisa were waiting for her.
“Hi, Nan!” Ned said as Nancy came up. “Did you find anything?”
Nancy nodded grimly. “I did.” She leaned against the car and took a deep breath.
“Lisa, I have something to say,” she began, “and you’d better listen closely. The fire chief is talking about arson,” Nancy went on. “In fact, he’s almost certain someone set the fire on purpose.”
“What?” Lisa gasped. “You mean it wasn’t an accident?”
“That’s right.” Nancy watched Lisa closely. The girl seemed genuinely surprised.
“But why would someone do that?” Ned asked, puzzled.
“No one knows yet,” Nancy replied. “First they have to investigate to see if it really was arson. Then the police will be brought in. They’ll be the ones to hunt for a motive.”
“You mean, a motive for destroying Franklin Place?” Ned frowned. “The owner of the building could collect fire insurance,” he said. “That would make Uncle Bob a prime suspect, wouldn’t it?”
“It might,” Nancy said. She glanced at Lisa, who was biting her lip and staring straight ahead. “But if arson was established, and your uncle turned out to be responsible, he wouldn’t collect a penny. Besides, I don’t think Mr. Franklin would destroy his own work. He was so proud of it. And he certainly doesn’t seem to need the insurance money.”
“Then who do you think it was, Nan?” asked Ned.
Nancy looked straight at Lisa. “I hate to say this, but right now I have only one suspect. You, Lisa.”
“Lisa!” Ned turned and stared at his cousin in shock.
Lisa’s eyes were wide with fright. “I was afraid of this,” she said in a strangled whisper.
Nancy eyed her thoughtfully. “I know.” She reached into the pocket of her brown slacks and drew out Lisa’s bracelet.
Lisa gasped. “You found it!”
“I certainly did,” said Nancy. “It was right in front of the burning building. Lisa, I saw you with this bracelet before the fire started. You left the house for a short time and then came back—without the bracelet. You do realize that this bracelet is evidence, don’t you? It places you right here at the site about the time the fire must have been set.”
“I do realize that,” said Lisa softly. “Do you have to turn the bracelet over to the fire department?”
Nancy smiled faintly. “Not right now,” she answered. “I did tell the chief the truth—that I had found a bracelet. He didn’t seem to think it was important, but he might change his mind later.”
Lisa lifted her chin. “Finding my bracelet here isn’t real evidence that I started the fire.”
“That’s true.” Nancy nodded. “But there are other things to consider.”
“Such as?” asked Lisa defiantly.
“Twice tonight you made threats,” said Nancy. “First you said you wished Franklin Place would burn down. And the second time, on the telephone, you were talking about making someone sorry.”
“You heard that?” Lisa sounded dazed.
Nancy was about to answer when she saw Mr. Franklin striding toward his car. A short, bald man with glasses was hurrying to keep up with him. He looked as if he were trying to talk to Mr. Franklin, but Mr. Franklin wasn’t listening. Laurel and Mr. Toomey were right behind them, followed by a crowd of reporters.
When Mr. Franklin reached the car, he paused. “No comment,” Nancy heard him say loudly as he opened the door.
A woman reporter stepped out of the crowd. “Is it true that the fire department suspects arson?” she called.
“No comment,” Mr. Franklin repeated.
The reporter turned to the short, bald man. “You’re Ed Kline, the night watchman, aren’t you?” she asked.
The man nodded.
“Did you see anything or anyone suspicious around the building earlier?” the reporter asked.
“Well, yes, as a matter of fact I—”
“He didn’t see a thing,” Mr. Franklin interrupted. “Good night, Ed. Come on, Laurel, Christopher. Get in.”
Suddenly, Ed Kline’s jaw dropped. Nancy frowned. He was looking straight at them. “That car!” he exclaimed. “I saw it here earlier tonight! A red Camaro—I’m sure it’s the same one.”
The night watchman peered more closely at the car. Then his gaze fell on Lisa.
“I saw her, too! She was here, near the office trailer. Right where the fire broke out. I called to her, and she started running. She took off in this car.”
He raised his arm and pointed at Lisa.
“I’m sure of it. She’s the one who set the fire!”
A Wild Ride
“Wait a minute!” shouted Mr. Franklin, turning to the night watchman. “Are you accusing my daughter of—”
Ed Kline set his jaw. “I certainly am,” he said flatly. He jerked his head toward Lisa. “She’s the one who set the fire,” he repeated.
There was a shocked silence. Then everyone started talking at once. Reporters swarmed around Lisa’s car, yelling questions. Electronic flashes began exploding in the dark. Lisa hid her face against the side of the car. Ned and Nancy stepped in front of her.
Mr. Franklin held up his hand in the manner of a man who was used to being obeyed. “Please, everyone, it’s been a rough night,” he called.
The reporters paid no attention. They pressed in even closer, scribbling frantically and firing questions.
“Mr. Franklin, did you have any suspicions that your daughter was going to set this fire?”
“Does she have a criminal record?”
“Did you know it was arson, sir?”
Mr. Franklin threw both hands into the air. “I have no comment! No more questions!” he shouted angrily. “You’re all jumping to conclusions. No one has confirmed arson! Save your questions for the fire chief.”
He turned back toward his car once again, but a reporter blocked his way.
“Sir, why would your daughter set fire to your own building?” she asked. “Is there a problem—”
Mr. Franklin’s expression turned ugly. He elbowed the reporter out of the way so roughly that she stumbled backward. “I told you, I won’t answer any questions,” he growled. “Speak to the chief, why don’t you?”
“And here comes the chief now,” Nancy said under her breath. “Maybe that will distract them for a while.”
As the crowd of reporters turned toward the fire chief, Nancy opened Lisa’s car door. “This looks like a good time for us to leave,” she told Lisa. “Ned or I will drive if you’d like.”
Lisa nodded shakily. She climbed into the back of the car and slumped against the seat.
Laurel had edged over to Nancy. She still had a shocked look on her face. “Nancy, could Lisa really have done it?” she asked.
“We’ll need lots more evidence before we can be sure who did it,” Nancy said.
To her surprise, Laurel seemed angry. “That’s right—protect Lisa!” she burst out. “Everyone always has to take care of Lisa, even when she’s committed a crime!” She turned her back on Nancy and headed toward her father’s car.
What did that mean? Nancy wondered. Laurel sounded as if she wanted her to think Lisa set the fire. Why would Laurel want anyone to think that? Unless...
Nancy shook her head. This case was only a few hours old, but it was growing more complicated by the minute.
As she was climbing into the front seat Nancy heard the fire chief tell Mr. Franklin, “I’ll talk with you later, sir.” She paused for a moment to listen.
“It looks bad,” the chief was saying. “Where can I reach you if there’s any news?”
“Call me at home or the office anytime,” answered Mr. Franklin.
He turned to Ned. “I want you to drive Lisa and Nancy,” he ordered. “Don’t stop to talk to anyone.”
“Yes, Uncle Bob,” Ned answered.
Mr. Franklin motioned to Laurel and Mr. Toomey to get into the Lincoln.
Ned got into the driver’s seat of Lisa’s car, and Nancy settled in on the passenger side. As Ned pulled the car into the road, Nancy turned to face Lisa.
“Those reporters are going to ask even more questions tomorrow, you know. Your father won’t be able to keep them away forever. It might help if we talked things over first.”
Lisa dropped her head into her hands. “What for? It’s hopeless!”
“Maybe not,” Nancy said. “Just tell us the truth.”
Lisa shook her head. “I can’t,” she choked out.
Ned glanced at his cousin in the rearview mirror and frowned. Then he looked at Nancy. “Lisa’s no criminal. She’s not guilty, Nancy. I won’t believe that.”
Lisa gave him a grateful look. “Thanks,” she murmured.
“It’s too early to tell who’s really guilty,” Nancy said. “But the only evidence right now points to you.”
“I just can’t say anything” was Lisa’s reply. “I’m sorry.”
“Please, Lisa,” Ned urged. “You’ll feel better if you stop hiding whatever it is you’re hiding.”
Lisa shook her head.
“We’ll have to tell the police about this eventually, you know,” Nancy said gently. “Finding your bracelet at the site, those threats you made—it doesn’t look good for you, Lisa. And putting that evidence together with the fact that the night watchman saw you around the time the fire was set...” Her voice trailed away.
Terror mingled with stubbornness on Lisa’s face. “They can’t prove I set the fire,” she said. “They can’t prove I had a reason to set it, either.” She clamped her jaw shut and stared out the window.
“Your family will think you had a reason,” Ned pointed out.
Nancy decided to try a different tack. “Lisa,” she said, “if you didn’t set the fire, what were you doing at the site?”
“I’m sorry,” Lisa answered. “I can’t tell you that, either.”
They drove the rest of the way home in silence.
* * *
Mr. Franklin, Mr. Toomey, and Laurel were waiting for them in the living room when they arrived. For a moment no one said anything. Then Mr. Franklin cleared his throat.
“I just talked to the fire chief,” he said. “Larson, his name is. They found an incendiary device at the site. It was definitely arson.”
Lisa collapsed into a chair.
“Chief Larson has already called the police,” said Mr. Franklin tiredly. “There’ll be a scandal, I’m afraid. Lisa, if you did this, why? How could you betray me this way?”
Lisa stared down at her hands.
“Well, Lisa?” asked Laurel bitingly. “Don’t you have anything to say?”
Lisa looked up. “I’m really sorry,” she quavered. “But you all have to believe me. I had nothing to do with setting the fire. I could never do such a terrible thing.”
Mr. Franklin’s gaze softened for a moment. Then he drew himself up. “Nancy, can you help clear Lisa’s name?” he asked.
“I certainly hope so,” said Nancy. She wanted to believe Lisa was innocent, too. But she couldn’t ignore the fact that Lisa was obviously holding something back. Until she could prove otherwise, Lisa was the prime suspect right now.
“The first thing we need to do is go over alibis,” Nancy said. “We were all here at the time of the fire. The only one who left the house was Lisa.”
“I told you, I didn’t set the fire!” Lisa insisted.
“Then maybe you saw someone who did,” Nancy said. “Think, Lisa, did you notice anything strange? A car? Signs of another person