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ПРИЯТНОГО ЧТЕНИЯ!
Carolyn Keene
Nancy Drew Mystery Stories: Volume Ninety-Four
The Picture-Perfect Mystery
Copyright, 1990, by Simon & Schuster
A MASTERPIECE OF DECEIT
A con artist has pulled off a near-perfect crime, switching contracts with famed local painter Lila Cramer. Nancy has just four days to catch the artful dodger, or Lila will have to forfeit her entire collection!
But the scheme proves to have been most carefully conceived–and concealed. The investigation leads Nancy into a maze of misleading disguises, unsigned notes, and anonymous phone calls. She will have to draw on all her deductive powers to paint THE PICTURE-PERFECT MYSTERY’s elusive mastermind into a corner.
1. Trouble at the Gallery
“Wow, I’m about to meet a celebrity!” Bess Marvin said, hurrying up the sidewalk behind Nancy Drew. The two friends were on their way to the Cramer Gallery. “I can’t believe it!” She combed her straw blond hair with her fingers.
“Lila Cramer certainly has become famous in the past few years,” Nancy agreed. “Her paintings and watercolors are prized by collectors all over the country.”
“Then I guess they’re pretty valuable,” Bess added.
“You said it,” Nancy replied, laughing. “They’re definitely more expensive than the last posters we picked up at the mall.”
The summer morning was warm, and the girls were dressed in denim skirts and light blouses. Nancy, who was taller and slimmer than Bess, walked with long, fast strides, her reddish blond hair streaming behind her. Bess scurried after Nancy, and her pocketbook bumped against her slightly plump figure with her bouncing movements.
Nancy slowed her pace and turned to her friend, lowering her voice. “Let me warn you, Lila is quite a character.”
“Well, I think when a painter has worked as hard as Lila,” Bess whispered back, “she can be a little eccentric if she wants.”
“Here we are,” Nancy announced as they reached an imposing, two-story building.
The Cramer Gallery, located at the edge of the girls’ hometown of River Heights, had been converted from a private home. A porch ran along the front of the house. A wooden staircase led up to the porch, and next to it a ramp had been installed so that large works of art could easily be moved in and out.
The girls walked up the front porch steps and through the glass front door, which was propped open.
Inside, Nancy and Bess began to look around. The walls of the gallery were crowded with paintings, etchings, and drawings. Several partitions had been set up to create more hanging space.
The large main room was decorated in an elegant yet comfortable style that didn’t detract from the artwork. Several pieces of antique furniture were tastefully arranged around the room. An oversize armchair upholstered in tapestry sat in one corner. A small drop-leaf table with a bowl of fresh flowers on top of it stood against a far wall, and an intricately carved wooden chest occupied another corner.
Many of the works of art hanging on the walls were landscapes in watercolor and oil paints. There were pencil-and-ink drawings of various subjects, including portraits and still lifes.
“This is a beautiful place!” Bess exclaimed, turning around to take in the setting around her.
“Yes, it certainly is,” Nancy agreed. “Lila has done a wonderful job here.”
“Did Lila do all of this art?” Bess asked.
A loud, booming voice came from behind them. “She may as well have! She keeps painting and painting, and still she can’t keep up with the demand.”
The girls turned to see a tall, attractive blond woman in her midforties standing with her arms folded in the middle of the gallery floor. She was dressed in cotton pants and a white blouse, and a colorful scarf was knotted at her neck.
“Lila,” Nancy said, smiling. “It’s so good to see you again.”
Lila came over and shook Nancy’s hand. “Hello, Nancy. You must be here to pick up Carson’s painting.”
“That’s right,” Nancy told her. “Dad bought it last week and had it framed. Lee Ann said it would be ready today.”
“Well, I’m sure it is ready, then,” Lila said brusquely. “I’ve hardly had a chance to keep in touch with day-to-day business lately. You see, I’ve an exhibition coming up.” She turned to the back of the gallery. “Lee Ann!”
Nancy said, “Lila, I’d like you to meet my good friend Bess Marvin. Bess, Lila Cramer.”
Bess stuck out her hand. “I’m very pleased to meet you, Mrs. Cramer,” she said excitedly. “I’m a big admirer of your work.”
“Thank you,” Lila said. She turned again and called out sharply, “Lee Ann!”
A pretty, young blond-haired woman about Nancy and Bess’s age rushed from an adjoining room to stand at Lila’s side. “Sorry, Mom, I was taking care of some business in the back.” She beamed when she saw Nancy. “Nancy, how great to see you! I was hoping I’d be here when you came to pick up the painting.”
“We should get together more often,” Nancy said, returning the smile. “Lee Ann and I used to play together when we were little,” she explained to Bess.
“Well, that was before life got so complicated,” Lila said with a wave of her hand. “Is it ready, I hope?”
“What?” Lee Ann asked.
“The painting!” Lila said impatiently. “That’s why Nancy is here. She’s come to pick up the painting!”
Lee Ann laughed nervously. “Of course. Yes, the painting is ready. In fact, it just came back from the framer earlier this morning.”
Lee Ann circled around an easel in the middle of the room, which displayed one of Lila’s larger works, a country setting in watercolor. Going behind a small desk, she disappeared into a back room.
“I can’t wait to see what Nancy’s father bought,” Bess said. “I’m sure it’s wonderful—like all your work.”
Lila smiled. “Well, thank you. I’m very pleased with my work at this point. My art is the most important thing in my life, you know.” She sighed heavily. “My life is my work.”
Nancy saw Bess’s eyes widen in surprise. Nancy, too, was taken aback at Lila’s remark. She glanced quickly toward the back room to see if Lee Ann had heard what her mother said and was relieved to see that her friend had closed the door behind her. Lee Ann certainly would have been hurt to hear her mother say that her art was the most important thing in her life.
Lila hadn’t always been so self-centered. Nancy remembered that she used to lavish a lot of attention on her daughter when Nancy and Lee Ann were kids. But about five years ago, when Lila had become recognized as one of the finest watercolor artists in the country, she had focused nearly all of her attention on her career. Suddenly, she had no time for her family and friends. Everyone who knew Lila was surprised by the change in her.
“As I was saying,” Lila continued, “this exhibition has been taking my every waking moment.”
“What exhibition is that, Lila?” Nancy asked.
Lila shrugged. “Oh, it’s just a local thing next Saturday—I can’t believe it, it’s only four days away. Several local artists will be exhibiting, but there will be national press coverage, so it’s particularly important that my work get good reviews from the judges.” She smiled faintly. “Of course, I plan to win. The only possible competition is a local artist who really is not very good compared to me. I suppose that sounds conceited, but it’s a simple fact.” Lila sighed, then laughed quickly. “I’m not worried. Just busy! So if you will excuse me...”
“Of course,” Nancy said.
Lila turned and hurried from the room, the scarf around her neck fluttering behind her.
“Here’s your painting,” Lee Ann said, passing her mother in the doorway. “It’s still wrapped in paper from the framer. Do you want to open it?”
Bess touched Nancy’s arm. “Oh, let’s have a look!” she said. “I want to see which of Lila’s paintings your father bought.”
Lee Ann carefully unfastened the brown paper wrapping. Then, after taking down the large watercolor that had been standing on the easel, she set the painting Nancy’s father had purchased in its place.
The girls gazed at the watercolor in silence for a moment. It was of a small, blue-eyed girl with reddish blond hair. The girl was standing on the bottom rail of a split-rail fence surrounded with wild flowers.
“Oh!” Bess gasped. “It’s just beautiful!”
“Recognize the girl in the painting?” Nancy asked Bess.
Bess leaned in and squinted a little, then took several steps backward, still concentrating. All at once, a wide smile spread across her face.
“Nancy, it’s you, isn’t it? When you were a little girl!”
“Right,” Nancy said. “Lila had taken Lee Ann and me to the park for a picnic.” She pointed to the painting. “This fence was at the edge of the park. I hopped up there, and Lila took a picture. Then a few months ago, she found the photo and decided to paint the picture.”
Lee Ann beamed. “She called Nancy’s father the day it was finished and told him that she had something she wanted to show him.”
“Wasn’t that nice of Lila?” Nancy said. “Dad was so pleased to be able to buy a Lila Cramer—”
“And of his own daughter!” Bess exclaimed.
“That day was so much fun, Nancy,” Lee Ann said, a faraway look in her eyes. “I can still remember it.” She smiled ruefully. “That was before Mom got famous and she—” Lee Ann caught herself in midsentence, looking embarrassed and flustered, as if she’d started to say something she shouldn’t have. “Well, she changed a little, I guess,” she finished after a pause.
Nancy looked at Lee Ann with concern. She could see the pain in her friend’s green eyes and knew Lee Ann missed the days when her mother had had time for her.
“That was a great day,” Nancy said gently, then shifted the subject to the painting. “And I’m sure Dad is going to be very pleased.”
“Lee Ann!” Lila’s voice called out, sharp as a whip, from the adjoining room. “I’m going to a meeting about the exhibition. You hold down the fort while I’m gone, okay?”
“Sure,” Lee Ann said. “No problem, Mom. I’ll be here.”
“So you like the painting, Nancy?” Lila asked, sweeping back into the room and gathering up her bag and a notebook.
“Of course!” Nancy told her. “It’s beautiful and a great way to remember that day in the park with you and Lee Ann.”
“Good,” Lila said. She flew past the girls on her way to the door. “I knew Carson would like it, too. I think it’s one of my better works.” Turning, she looked seriously at Nancy and added, “You got a good deal.”
“I know we did,” Nancy said. “Thank you, Lila. I love it.”
Lila nodded, slipped out the door, and was gone.
“Wow!” Bess exclaimed. “Your mother is really something, Lee Ann. What energy! She really has a passion for her work, doesn’t she?”
“You can say that again,” Lee Ann said, but Nancy thought the smile on her friend’s lips was a little sad. “She really is focusing all of that energy on the exhibition this Saturday.”
“It must be exciting living around all of this,” Bess said, her sweeping gesture including the entire gallery. “The glamour, the receptions, the other artists you get to rub elbows with—”
“Yes, it is exciting,” Lee Ann agreed. “But sometimes, that excitement can get you down.” She paused a moment, and her smile faded. “You know, preparing for an exhibition can be pretty stressful, especially the last few weeks before an opening. Choosing the paintings, framing them, getting them to the exhibit—it gets pretty crazy around here sometimes.” Lee Ann took a deep breath. “In fact, there are times when I wish I could just disappear for a while and come back when Mom’s already gotten all the wonderful comments and reviews, after the show is over. That’s when she finally calms down a little.”
“And you can return to normal,” Nancy said with an understanding smile.
“Well, almost normal,” Lee Ann said.
There were footsteps at the front entrance, and the three girls turned to see a tall, slender man with dark-framed glasses walk into the gallery. Above a bushy mustache he had a large, bulbous nose.
“Excuse me,” Lee Ann whispered to Nancy and Bess. “I’d better help this guy. Stick around a little bit, okay?”
“Sure,” Nancy agreed.
“Nancy’s not on a case right now, if you can believe it,” Bess said, grinning. “So we’re just running errands and enjoying the summer.”
Nancy Drew had become quite well-known around River Heights as a young detective who solved mysteries for people who asked her for help. Even Chief McGinnis, of the River Heights police department, had been impressed on many occasions with Nancy’s talents for sleuthing.
While Lee Ann went to wait on the customer, Nancy took her father’s painting off the easel and carefully replaced it with the watercolor of the country scene.
“This is all so interesting,” Bess whispered to her. “I wish George could be here.” George Fayne, Bess’s cousin, was also a close friend of Nancy’s. “She’s going to die when she gets back from vacation and I tell her that I met the famous Lila Cramer!”
“George would have enjoyed it,” Nancy agreed.
Bess’s face took on a solemn look. “Lila sure seems like a dragon lady, the way she treats Lee Ann,” she said.
“Well, she wasn’t always like that,” Nancy explained, keeping her voice low so Lee Ann wouldn’t hear. “It could be that she’s just nervous about the exhibition.”
“Maybe you’re right,” Bess said.
Nancy and Bess split up and wandered separately around the gallery to look at the paintings displayed. Nancy checked the names of the artists of the paintings she passed and found that I alas works were the most prominently displayed of all those in the gallery.
As she walked around, Nancy noticed out of the corner of her eye that the tall man had picked out a painting. Lee Ann led him to the small desk.
All at once, the girls heard a dull, rumbling sound coming from outside of the building.
Bess and Nancy looked up.
“Is it thundering?” Bess asked. “It can’t be.”
“What in the world—?” Lee Ann said.
A flash of red streaked past the porch windows, and then, as the girls stared in disbelief, a small boy on a bike raced into the gallery.
“Stop!” Nancy yelled at him. She lurched forward to grab him, but the boy swerved out of her way just before she reached him.
“Rrrrrrrrrrr!” he hollered.
The boy drove his bike across the gallery carpet and, with a crash, plowed right into the easel in the middle of the room. The easel, the bike, and the boy landed in a heap in the middle of the gallery floor—and Lila’s watercolor clattered down next to them!
2. Tricked!
“Oh, no! The painting!” Lee Ann shrieked. She rushed to where the boy had fallen, leaving her customer standing at the desk.
“Are you all right?” Nancy asked the boy. Bess stood next to Nancy, glaring at the child, as Nancy helped him untangle his legs from under his bicycle. He looked about seven and had brown eyes and a head of tousled dark curls. He was wearing shorts and a red T-shirt.
“Yeah, I guess,” the boy mumbled. “Skinned my knee.” Sitting on the gallery floor, he pulled his knee up to examine the damage. Then, glancing nervously up at the girls who were surrounding him, he made a move to get up.
Nancy placed a firm hand on his shoulder to stop him. “That was a silly thing to do. And dangerous,” she said, frowning at the boy. “You could’ve hurt yourself or somebody else. Luckily, you got just a rug burn.”
“I gotta go,” the boy mumbled. He pulled away from Nancy and jumped quickly to his feet.
Lee Ann picked up her mother’s painting, which had landed facedown on the floor. “Oh,” she said softly, “my mother’s going to kill me.”
“Is the painting damaged?” Bess asked.
Lee Ann examined it closely, her face tight with concern. “It seems okay,” she told them, breathing a sigh of relief. “The frame isn’t nicked, either.” She looked up at Nancy and smiled. “No harm done, I guess.”
“I gotta go,” the boy said again. He pulled his bike up off the floor.
The girls turned as a young man with dark eyes and dark, wavy hair rushed in from the back room. “What happened in here?” he asked. “I could hear the noise all the way in the back office.”
“Oh, Rodney,” Lee Ann said, “it’s okay. This boy rode his bike up the ramp and into the gallery. He knocked himself and Mom’s painting over, but there was no damage.”
Rodney scowled at the boy. After taking the painting from Lee Ann, he examined it, then set it back up on the easel. “Kids,” he mumbled irritably under his breath.
“Okay, you can go,” Nancy told the boy. “But remember, an art gallery is no place to ride a bike.”
The boy wheeled his bike around to face the door and threw a leg over the seat. Seeing that he was going to climb back on, Nancy grabbed the handlebars and stopped him.
“I told you, an art gallery is no place to ride a bike,” she repeated firmly. Putting her hands on the boy’s shoulders, she steered him with his bike out the door. “And stick to the sidewalk from now on.”
“Okay, okay,” the boy mumbled. He hopped on his bike, rolled down the ramp, and disappeared down the street.
Nancy came back inside.
“Can you believe that?” Bess said. “He rode his bicycle up the ramp, right into the building!”
“Oh!” Lee Ann cried, her hands flying to her mouth. “I nearly forgot about my customer!”
The girls turned to look at the tall man, who was still standing at the desk and waiting patiently.
While Lee Ann returned to her customer to finish the sale, Nancy turned to the young man who had come out of the back office.
“Hi, I’m Nancy Drew,” she said, extending her hand.
“Rodney Walden,” the young man responded, taking Nancy’s hand and shaking it.
“This is my friend Bess Marvin,” Nancy said.
Bess and Rodney nodded hello.
“Is it always this exciting around here?” Nancy asked.
Rodney frowned. “I’m surprised we haven’t had any incidents before this,” he said.
“Really?” Nancy was surprised. “Why?”
“The gallery is wide open, as always,” Rodney muttered, gesturing angrily toward the front door, which was still propped open. “Lila always leaves it open when the weather is good.” He scowled. “She says she likes the fresh air, but she’s just asking for trouble. I’ve told her a million times...”
Nancy nodded but said nothing. She thought it curious that he would get so angry about Lila leaving the gallery door open.
Rodney turned and stalked off toward a group of paintings on the far wall. He straightened one that hung slightly askew.
“Thank you,” Lee Ann said to her customer. She signed the bill of sale for the painting and gave the duplicate to the man. “Come again,” she said with a smile.
“Thank you,” the man said. His voice was low and soft. “I’ll be back before the exhibition.” He turned and walked out of the gallery with the painting under his arm, nodding to Nancy as he passed.
“This is a busy place,” Nancy said to Lee Ann, as she and Bess stepped over to join her at the desk. “You know, maybe that kid was actually good for business. That guy said he’s coming back.”
Lee Ann laughed, waving the contract she had just signed. “Well, I’m just so glad Mom’s painting wasn’t hurt. I can’t even imagine having to tell her that one of her paintings was damaged!” She sighed. “But I won’t have to, since it wasn’t harmed.”
She glanced toward the front of the gallery. “Well, I’m going to shut the door,” she said, hurrying over to it.
“Isn’t that an example of locking the barn door after the horse has bolted?” Bess joked.
“Right,” Lee Ann said. “But at least I won’t have to worry about any more bike riders getting in.” She was about to close the door firmly when she looked out toward the street. “Oh, good, here’s Annette. You’ll like her. She usually comes in about this time.”
A petite brunette appeared at the front door and smiled a greeting to Lee Ann.
Lee Ann put her arm around the fragile-looking young woman. “Nancy, Bess, I’d like you to meet Annette Hoops. You thought my mother and I manage the gallery? Well, we got the business started, but I can tell you that it’s Annette who practically runs this place.”
Annette beamed with pleasure as she shook hands with Nancy and Bess.
“You must do a good job, Annette,” Nancy said. “The gallery is beautiful. It’s obviously managed very well.”
“Thank you,” said Annette. Her voice was soft, and her eyes were big and brown. Nancy thought she seemed shy, but there was a gentle grace about her, too.
“You missed all the excitement,” Rodney said, striding over to the others, in the middle of the gallery.
“Excitement?” Annette asked. “What happened?”
Lee Ann sighed deeply. “A little boy evidently got tired of his usual bike route and thought he’d pedal into the gallery.”
Annette’s hands covered her mouth. “In here?” Lee Ann nodded. “Oh, no!”
“He crashed into Mom’s painting on the easel,” Lee Ann continued, “and—well, created quite a commotion.”
“Was anything damaged?” Annette asked.
“No, thank goodness,” Lee Ann said with a laugh. “I was pretty nervous for a minute there, though.”
“It was all Lila’s fault,” Rodney said.
“Lila’s fault?” Annette asked. “Was she here?”
“No,” Lee Ann said. “Rodney means Mom’s penchant for leaving the front door open.”
“It’s not just the door,” Rodney put in angrily. He turned to Lee Ann. “Let’s face it. If your mother would take care of some of the essential business details around here instead of thinking about herself all the time—”
“Rodney, I don’t want to hear it,” Lee Ann protested. “Mom’s on edge because of the exhibition. You’re an artist, you know what she’s going through—”
Lee Ann’s voice was quiet, but Nancy could see anger flashing in her green eyes. And no wonder her old friend was very upset, Nancy thought. Listening to an employee of the gallery criticize her mother was not pleasant.
Annette’s high voice piped up. “Rodney, what’s done is done. Let’s forget about the door. We’ll be more careful after this. And as far as Lila is concerned, well, she’s doing her best. Lee Ann is right. Lila has a lot on her mind.”
Rodney glared at Annette. “Spoken like the perfect, loyal employee that you are,” he said, his voice thick with sarcasm.
Nancy watched Rodney. If he was so disgruntled, she wondered, why did he continue to work at the gallery?
“You don’t have to attack Annette, Rodney,” Lee Ann said. “We’re lucky to have her.”
“Lila treats you like garbage, and you just take it,” Rodney said to Annette.
“Garbage?” Annette’s mouth was open with surprise.
Rodney opened his mouth to say something more, but then he glanced at Nancy and Bess and stopped himself. “Oh, forget it,” he muttered angrily. Then he turned and stalked away.
There was an awkward silence before Annette spoke. “Thank you, Lee Ann,” she said softly. “I appreciate the vote of confidence.”
Bess’s eyes had trailed Rodney as he stormed from the room. Turning back to the others, she blew out an exasperated breath. “He must be loads of fun to work with,” she said, just loud enough for them to hear.
Annette smiled tightly, and Lee Ann shook her head in disgust.
“He really is an artist," Lee Ann said in a low whisper. “His temper is as crazy as Mom’s. He certainly should give her a break.” She paused before continuing. “Rodney has seemed pretty unhappy lately, but this is the first time I’ve seen him act like this. He’d better change his attitude, though. Mom won’t allow him to work here if he’s going to blow up at every little thing.”
Lee Ann turned to Annette, who was standing next to her. “And I couldn’t begin to guess why he turned on you.”
“It’s okay,” Annette told her. “If I’m not used to Rodney by now, I shouldn’t be working here. But I have to admit, he seems angrier than usual today.”
“Yes, he does,” Lee Ann agreed. She turned back to Nancy and Bess. “Anyway, I’m sorry that you two had to see this. First, that kid rides in here on his bike, and then one disgruntled employee mouths off.” She smiled ruefully. “I’ll bet your opinion about being in the art business isn’t so hot anymore!”
Nancy smiled warmly at her old friend. “Of course not, Lee Ann,” she said. “I’ve been here plenty of times. The Cramer Gallery fully deserves its reputation for talent and professionalism.”
“Thanks for being so understanding,” Lee Ann said, touching Nancy’s arm.
Nancy glanced at her watch. “Well, Bess and I have to go. I told Dad I’d run a few errands for him before lunch.”
“It was great to see you, Nancy,” Lee Ann told her. “Again, I’m sorry about this morning—”
“Forget it,” Nancy said. “I just wish we had more time to look around. Your mom’s work is great, and she really knows how to choose other artists’ work, too.”
“Then you’ll have to come back,” Lee Ann said.
“Right.” Nancy and Bess moved toward the front door, with Lee Ann following. “The three of us should all have lunch next week. Bess is very interested in art, too.”
“You bet I am!” Bess said to Lee Ann. “And I never turn down an offer for lunch,” she added with a grin.
Nancy smiled. It was true. Bess loved to eat, and she especially adored rich, fattening things.
“Then it’s a date,” Lee Ann said. “I’m so glad your father bought this painting.” She tapped the wrapped painting that Nancy picked up and held under her arm.
“So am I,” Nancy said. “I’ll call you soon.”
“Great.” Lee Ann waved goodbye, the yellow bill of sale still in her hand.
Nancy pulled open the heavy glass door. “’Bye,” she said.
She and Bess walked out onto the front porch and pulled the door closed behind them.
“Oh, the drama in the lives of creative types,” Bess said. “That was quite a visit!”
“The Cramer Gallery isn’t always that lively,” Nancy told her. “The atmosphere is usually more sedate.”
“I like it this way,” Bess said, as they walked down the porch steps. “It’s much more interesting.”
Nancy and Bess had almost reached Nancy’s blue sports car when the front door to the gallery was yanked open behind them. Lee Ann rushed toward them, her face drained of color.
“Nancy!” she gasped.
Nancy turned and was shocked to see her friend’s face drawn, her eyes full of fear. “What’s wrong, Lee Ann?” she asked, worried.
“I’ve made a terrible mistake!” Lee Ann said, choking on her words. She waved the yellow bill of sale in front of her. “I sold all of my mother’s paintings for the price of just one!”
3. A Confession
“What!” Nancy cried. “How could that have happened?”
A tear rolled down Lee Ann’s cheek. “Remember the guy who was in the gallery a few minutes ago?” she asked.
“Yes,” Nancy said. “That tall man with the bushy mustache.”
“Right.” Lee Ann nodded and brushed the tear away. “He was waiting at the desk when that boy rode in on the bike.”
“I remember,” Nancy said. “I thought it was kind of strange that he didn’t come over to check out all the commotion.”
“Well,” Lee Ann rushed on, “while we were distracted, he added a few words to the bill of sale that entitle him to all of Mom’s paintings!” Lee Ann bit her lower lip. “I have to clear this up, Nancy. I can’t tell my mother what I’ve done. She’ll kill me!”
Nancy frowned. “There has to be some mistake, Lee Ann,” she said. “Let me see the bill of sale.”
She took the yellow paper and examined it. “I’m afraid you’re right,” she said. “That’s the way it looks. You know, I heard the man say he’d be back before the exhibition.”
“So did I!” Lee Ann cried. “I thought he meant he wanted to look at more paintings. But now—Oh, no! Do you think he’s coming back to take the rest of the paintings?”
Nancy nodded. “That must be what he meant.”
“What am I going to do?” Lee Ann asked, her eyes filled with dread. “Mom needs those paintings for the exhibition on Saturday. This is Tuesday! We have only four days to get this straightened out.”
Nancy put an arm around her friend’s shoulder. “We’ll get to the bottom of this, Lee Ann,” she assured her.
“You know,” Bess said, “it’s quite a coincidence that the boy just happened to ride into the gallery when the guy was here.”
Nancy nodded. “That’s what I was thinking.”
“You mean, you think the man put the little boy up to riding his bike into the gallery?” Lee Ann asked.
“I wouldn’t be surprised,” Nancy said.
She looked down the street. “He went in that direction,” she told the others. “I told him to ride safely, and he rode down the ramp and turned right.”
“Do you think it’s too late to catch the man?” Lee Ann asked anxiously.
“He’s probably long gone,” Nancy said, shaking her head, “but we might be able to find the kid if he lives around here. Bess, let’s drive around the neighborhood.”
“Good idea,” Bess said. “I’ll go get the car.”
Nancy handed Bess the keys to her Mustang, and Bess hurried off around the side of the gallery to the parking lot.
“Oh, Nancy,” Lee Ann said, “thank you for helping me with this. I don’t know what I’ll do if we can’t get hold of that man and straighten this out. Mom needs those paintings. She’ll be furious if she finds out what happened!”
“Maybe we can solve this problem without telling Lila right away,” Nancy said. “She may have to be told at some point, Lee Ann,” she added, “but for now, the first thing we need to do is find that little boy.”
Bess suddenly came running from the side of the gallery.
“Nancy!” Bess was gesturing wildly and pointing back in the direction she’d come from. “Come quick!”
“What is it?” Nancy asked.
“The boy! He’s sitting on his bike with some other kids behind the gallery. Come quick before he leaves!”
Nancy dashed across the gallery lawn and followed Bess around the side of the building. She spotted the boy in the red shirt right away and slowed to a fast walk, not wanting to startle him into running away.
She and Bess were halfway across the yard when the boy looked up and saw them.
“Uh-oh. I gotta go,” Nancy heard him say to his friends. Taking a running start, he threw his leg over the seat of his bike and took off.
Nancy broke into a run. She flew by the boys and took a shortcut across the yard next door, Bess following fast behind her.
The boy glanced back over his shoulder at Nancy and pedaled even faster.
“Stop!” Nancy yelled. “I just want to talk to you!
He continued to pedal furiously, trying to put more and more distance between himself and Nancy. Again, he turned to take a quick look back at her. This time, however, he missed seeing the rut in the pavement just in front of his tire.
For the second time that morning the boy toppled over, landing with a smack on the sidewalk under his bike.
Nancy reached him seconds later. Lifting the bike off the boy, she checked quickly to see that he wasn’t hurt. Then she grabbed him firmly by the arm so that he wouldn’t bolt.
“I didn’t do anything,” the boy cried, his eyes wide with fear.
“I didn’t say you did,” Nancy said calmly.
Bess reached them then, huffing and puffing for air.
“So why are you chasing me?” the boy asked.
“I told you, I want to talk to you and ask you some questions.” Nancy softened her voice. The boy seemed awfully scared, and she wondered why.
Leading him to a grassy spot at the edge of the sidewalk, she sat him on the ground and asked, “What’s your name?”
“Mike Hawkins,” the boy said.
“Well, Mike,” Nancy said, “I want to know why you rode your bike into the gallery this morning.”
“I was going for a ride,” Mike mumbled, looking at the ground.
“I figured that,” Nancy said. “But why did you ride your bike into the gallery? You’ve never done that before, have you?”
“No.”
“Well?”
“I just did,” Mike said.
“Did anyone tell you to do it?” Nancy asked. Mike didn’t answer.
Nancy decided to level with him. “Something not very nice happened in the gallery while we were paying attention to you.”
Mike looked sincerely curious. “What happened?” he asked.
“A man in the gallery tricked my friend into selling a lot of paintings, but he paid for only one of them.”
He squinted up at Nancy. “He tricked her? Like a joke?”
“Oh, he wasn’t joking at all,” Nancy said. “He cheated her.”
“Cheated?” Mike’s eyes widened. “I don’t like cheaters,” he said.
“Well, maybe you can help catch this cheater if you answer my questions,” Nancy told him.
Mike nodded. “Okay. I’ll help.”
“Did someone tell you to ride your bike into the gallery?” Nancy asked.
“Well, yeah, I guess so.”
“Was it the man who was in the gallery this morning when you rode your bike in?”
Mike thought for a second and then said, “Yeah, that was him. He gave me five whole dollars to ride into the store and bump into something.”
He took three dimes and two nickels out of his pocket and held them up.
“That’s only forty cents,” Bess pointed out. “Where’s the rest of it?”
“Spent it.” Reaching into his pocket again, Mike held up a plastic bag of balloons.
“That didn’t cost five dollars,” Bess said.
“Gum, too,” the boy said. “And candy bars. I was giving ’em to the guys when you came out and started chasing me.”
“Do you know the man who gave you the five dollars?” Nancy asked.
“Nope. Saw him in the park,” Mike said. “He goes there sometimes and eats lunch. I’ve seen him there before.”
“He eats lunch in the park frequently?” Nancy asked.
“Yeah. He likes bologna sandwiches.”
“Can you tell me anything else about him?” Nancy asked, trying to keep the conversation on track.
“I’ve never seen him eat peanut butter. That’s my favorite.”
Nancy smiled. “I mean, can you tell me anything more, like his name? Or where he lives?”
Mike shook his head. “Nope.”
“Okay, Mike. That’s all.” Nancy stood up. “Thanks for answering my questions.”
“So did I help you?”
“Yes,” Nancy said, grinning. “You can go, but be careful on that bike of yours. You seem to be accident prone.”
Mike flashed them a wave, then headed down the street on his bike.
“Isn’t that incredible?” Bess said. “Using a little kid like that to pull a scam?”
“Yes,” Nancy said. “Mike obviously had no idea what was going on. But I wonder why that man wanted all of Lila’s paintings. I suppose he could be either an art lover or someone who wants to make trouble for Lila.”
The girls walked back to the gallery, where they found a frantic Lee Ann pleading with Annette and Rodney.
“Just please don’t tell my mother about what happened,” Lee Ann was saying. “If she has to be told eventually, I want to do it myself. Okay? Can I count on you both?”
“Of course,” Annette said at once.
Lee Ann turned to Rodney. “How about you, Rodney? Will you please not tell Mother? She doesn’t need the aggravation before the exhibition, when everything is so hectic. I’m sure Nancy will be able to straighten this out.”
Nancy didn’t like the sneer she saw on Rodney’s face. She put a hand on Lee Ann’s shoulder and said, “I hope so, Lee Ann. I’ll do my best.”
Lee Ann hadn’t taken her eyes off Rodney. “Rodney?” Lee Ann pressed. “Can I count on you?”
“You’re afraid of her, aren’t you?” he asked in his taunting voice.
“Rodney, just tell Lee Ann she can count on you,” Annette said. “She doesn’t need the aggravation, either.”
“Your mother is really something,” Rodney muttered with disgust. “She even has her own daughter afraid of her!”
Lee Ann’s face turned red. “Rodney, I want you to know that immediately after the exhibition, I’m going to talk to my mother about you,” she said angrily. “I’d tell her now how you’ve been acting, but she has enough to worry about with all the preparations for Saturday.”
Rodney shrugged. “Sure, Lee Ann. Mum’s the word. We certainly wouldn’t want to upset Lila Cramer, would we?”
Nancy watched Rodney. He was bitter—maybe even bitter enough to plot against Lila’s gallery. She touched Lee Ann’s arm to get her attention. “Lee Ann, could Bess and I talk to you for a minute?”
“Sure,” Lee Ann agreed. “Come into the back office.”
The three girls walked to the back of the gallery and through the door behind the desk. It led into a small office.
“Have a seat,” Lee Ann told them. “Did you find the boy?”
“Yes,” Nancy said, sitting down on a sturdy wooden chair. Bess sat in a chair next to her. Opposite them was a large antique rolltop desk and a few filing cabinets. That was about all that could fit in the small space.
Lee Ann, still nervous, remained standing. “Who was he? What did he tell you?” she asked anxiously.
“The kid’s name is Mike Hawkins,” Nancy explained. “He said he was paid to ride in here this morning.”
“He was paid?” Lee Ann looked confused.
“By the man who pulled the con,” Nancy continued, “to create a diversion.”
“Unbelievable,” Lee Ann said, shaking her head. “Who would want to do such a thing?”
“I wish I could answer that,” Nancy said. “Mike said he met the man in the park and that the man has lunch there pretty often.”
Lee Ann covered her face with her hands. “I just can’t believe this is happening,” she said. “Maybe I’ll wake up and realize it was all a bad dream.”
The door behind Lee Ann burst open, causing all three girls to jump.
“What’s going on in here?” Lila stood in the doorway. “My goodness, Nancy, I didn’t expect to find you still here. The meeting was postponed—”
It was then that she noticed Lee Ann’s white face.
“Lee Ann, what’s wrong? You look as if you’ve seen a ghost.”
Lee Ann swallowed hard, her eyes glazing over. Nancy could see that her friend was trying to figure out what to say to her mother.
“Well, Lila,” Nancy said quickly, glancing over at a nervous Lee Ann. She wanted to give Lee Ann a second to recover herself. “We had a little excitement while you were gone.”
“What?” Lila’s voice rose with alarm. “What happened?” Nancy understood immediately why Lee Ann didn’t want to tell her mother about the con. Lila was practically hysterical, and she didn’t even know what had happened!
“A little boy rode his bike up the ramp and into the gallery,” Nancy explained in a calm voice. “He knocked over your painting on the easel—”
“What! Was it damaged?” Lila shrieked the question. Without waiting for an answer, she whirled around and strode out of the office, heading straight for her painting.
“It’s okay, Mom,” Lee Ann said, hurrying out of the small room after Lila.
Bess sighed and looked at Nancy, who shook her head. It was easy to see that Lila would be difficult to live with day after day.
The two friends followed Lee Ann into the gallery and found Lila standing by the easel, examining the painting closely. “It’s all right,” she said, turning to Lee Ann. “Thank goodness. Did this boy attack anything else?”
“No,” Lee Ann said. “And he didn’t attack it, Mom. He just knocked it over.”
“Well, how could you let that happen?” Lila demanded. “Weren’t you here? Didn’t you see the boy coming?”
“It all happened so fast that I couldn’t stop him,” Lee Ann said anxiously. As her mother bent toward the painting again, Lee Ann looked straight at Nancy with a meaningful gaze that seemed to say, “I’m not going to tell her any more.”
Nancy nodded her understanding. After watching Lila’s extreme reaction to the story of the boy on the bike, she understood more clearly why Lee Ann was so frantic to keep the rest of the story from her mother. That meant Nancy had to act as quickly as possible to find out who the man was who’d bought the paintings and why he would want to hurt Lila.
Of course, it was quite possible that the man was working with someone else, Nancy thought. But who? She took a quick look around her. Rodney was pacing the room, scowling. Annette had busied herself with work at the desk, but it was obvious that she was listening carefully to the conversation. Nancy knew her next step would be to learn more about these two employees.
Lila continued her survey of the gallery, making sure that nothing else was damaged. After several minutes, she apparently was satisfied that nothing had been damaged and gradually calmed down. Running her hand lovingly over the frame of one of her watercolors, she smiled a little to herself and said, “I have to say that these water-colors are some of my best pieces. The judges will certainly give me high points for them. They’re the best ever.”
Nancy was glad of Lila’s preoccupation with herself. If she concentrated on her art for the next few days, Lila probably wouldn’t pay much attention to gallery business. That would give Nancy a chance to solve this mystery before Lila ever found out there was a mystery.
Lila let out a soft chuckle. “I can’t wait to see the look on Jennifer’s face when I’m chosen the winner. She thinks she can unseat me this year as the best watercolor artist in this part of the country.”
Nancy glanced at Lee Ann and Bess and tilted her chin toward the front door, indicating that they should follow her out to the porch.
“Poor Mom,” Lee Ann said, once the three girls were outside. “She’s so anxious about the exhibition. She panics when anything out of the ordinary happens.”
“Yes,” Nancy said. “She does seem awfully nervous. I’m curious about the person she just mentioned in there. Who is Jennifer? Her competition?”
Lee Ann nodded. “In Mom’s eyes, she is. Jennifer Williams—she owns the Red Door Gallery—used to be her good friend, but ever since Mom’s career took off, she considers Jennifer to be some kind of rival. Actually, Jennifer has received quite a lot of favorable attention lately. Her work is selling well for the first time ever. She’s a talented woman, but she really isn’t a threat to Mom. She just doesn’t have Mom’s unique talent. Besides, Jennifer’s style is very different from Mom’s. They each have their own clientele and their own fans.”
Nancy nodded, mentally adding Jennifer to her list of possible suspects. “I can see why your mother feels threatened, though,” she told Lee Ann, “if Jennifer’s reputation has grown quickly.”
“Nancy,” Lee Ann said worriedly, “the man said he’d return before the exhibition on Saturday. Can you solve this before he comes back?”
“I’m certainly going to try,” Nancy promised. Then she and Bess said goodbye to Lee Ann. They were about to head back down the porch steps when Nancy thought of something.
“Oh, before I leave,” she said, “could I borrow that bill of sale? I want my father to look it over. Since he’s a lawyer, maybe he’ll have some ideas about how to approach this case.”
“Sure,” Lee Ann said. She pulled the yellow paper from her pocket and explained, “I tucked this away so my mother wouldn’t find it.”
“Great,” Nancy said, taking the paper. “I’ll check this out with Dad. Then our next step is to find the man who pulled the con and stop him!”
4. Stranger in the Park
“Coffeecake, Nancy?” Hannah Gruen asked the next morning. She was holding up a large pan that smelled sweetly of hot butter and cinnamon.
Nancy’s stomach grumbled as she eyed the frosting drizzled over the top. “That looks great, Hannah,” she said. “I’d love a piece.”
Hannah was the Drews’ housekeeper. She had lived with Nancy and her father since Mrs. Drew’s death, when Nancy was three years old. Hannah was like one of the family, and she mothered Nancy as if she were her own daughter.
Carson Drew sat across the table from his daughter. “I’d like a piece, too, Hannah,” he said, smiling as he watched Nancy bite with relish into her coffeecake. “That is, if Nancy doesn’t eat it all first.”
“Don’t think I wouldn’t love to do just that,” Nancy said. “Hannah, this is delicious!”
“I copied the recipe out of a magazine yesterday,” Hannah said. “It is good, isn’t it?”
As Carson took a piece of the cake, he asked Nancy, “Did you get a chance to pick up the painting at the Cramer Gallery yesterday?”
“Yes, I did. And the weirdest thing happened while we were there.”
Nancy filled Carson and Hannah in on what had taken place at the gallery the day before.
“Sounds like something you’d see on a TV show,” Hannah said. She looked dubiously at Nancy. “And—don’t tell me—you’re going to investigate for Lee Ann.”
“I’m going to try.” Nancy took the bill of sale from the pocket of her robe and held it up for her father to see.
“What do you think?” she asked.
Carson read the yellow paper carefully.
“Is this Lee Ann’s signature?” he asked, pointing to the bottom of the page.
“Yes,” Nancy told him.
“Well, this document might not hold up in court,” Carson said. “You do have witnesses to show that the man took advantage of the accident to change the bill.” He frowned then and looked over at his daughter. “But I’m concerned about this con. Lila certainly wouldn’t want the publicity that this case could stir up.”
“She sure wouldn’t,” Nancy agreed. “I’ve been trying to think why anyone would want to pull this scam on her. Do you think the man responsible might want to ruin her career?”
Carson considered the question for a long moment, but his only response was, “Maybe.”
“Since Lila hasn’t exactly endeared herself to people,” Nancy said, “I’ll need to check out everyone connected to her or her gallery—employees, competitors, everybody.”
Her father nodded. “If I were Lila, I’d want to get this wrapped up quickly.”
Nancy winced. “Lila doesn’t know about any of this yet, Dad,” she explained. “Lee Ann is afraid to tell her about the con.”
“Well, knowing how high-strung Lila is,” Carson said with a wry smile, “I can’t say that I blame Lee Ann. You’ve got a deadline here, too, don’t you? When is the exhibition?”
“Saturday,” Nancy told him. “That’s just three days from now. And the man said something about coming back to the gallery before the show.”
“To pick up the paintings?” Carson asked.
“I suppose that’s what he meant.”
“You certainly don’t have much time. Lila can’t compete in a juried exhibition without paintings.” Carson fingered his fork thoughtfully, then gave Nancy a look of encouragement. “Well, see what you can come up with.”
Placing a hand over Nancy’s, he added, “But as usual, just be careful.”
“So where are we headed?” Bess asked, plopping herself in Nancy’s blue Mustang later that morning.
“To the Cramer Gallery,” Nancy said. “I want to ask Lee Ann a few questions. But we shouldn’t stay too long. I’d like to be at the park by eleven-thirty to see if our swindler comes to have his lunch.”
Nancy steered the Mustang toward the gallery. The day was warm but pleasant, and the open windows allowed the warm breeze to ruffle the girls’ hair. The air smelled of the summer heat, hot pavement, and freshly cut grass.
Ten minutes later, Nancy parked behind the gallery and the girls went inside. Lee Ann spotted them as soon as they came in the glass door.
“Hi, Nancy, Bess,” she greeted them, rushing over from behind the desk.
Annette smiled from the back of the gallery and waved, but Lee Ann steered Nancy and Bess away from the petite brunette, motioning them to follow her to a corner in the front of the gallery. She seemed anxious to speak to them alone.
“How are you going to find the con man, Nancy?” Lee Ann asked. Her voice was a nervous whisper. “I was so worried and upset about him that I couldn’t sleep.”
“I have an idea where we might find him,” Nancy said, “but I want to ask you something first. Lee Ann, is there any possibility that you might have seen that man before yesterday? Was there anything remotely familiar about him that you can remember?”
Lee Ann thought for a moment, then shook her head. “I’d never seen him before in my life. Why?”
“I was wondering whether the man was an art lover or if you knew of any reason why he might want to hurt your mother.”
“He was a complete stranger to me,” Lee Ann said.
“Do you think you might be able to get away for a bit?” Nancy asked.
Lee Ann glanced back over her shoulder. “I guess I could. Annette’s here and Rodney’s due in half an hour.”
“Great,” Nancy said. “Let’s go.”
“Where are we headed?” Lee Ann asked, following Nancy and Bess out the door.
“It’s called a stakeout,” Bess said.
Lee Ann smiled. “Sounds like a TV cop show.”
“Except that on TV they don’t show you that ninety percent of the time spent on a stakeout is incredibly boring,” Nancy said with a laugh. “You just sit around and wait. But the other ten percent’s about as exciting as you can get!”
“Who are we staking out?” Lee Ann asked.
“Our swindler, if we’re lucky,” Nancy said. “Maybe he’ll show up at the park for lunch today.”
“Do you really think he’ll come?” Lee Ann asked, climbing into the backseat of Nancy’s car.
“I don’t know,” Nancy admitted, “but if he does, I want to be there. I’d like to ask him why he wants so much of Lila’s work.”
Nancy drove to the park and pulled into the parking lot next to an old green van. The girls piled out of the car and walked to the picnic area nearby. Weather-beaten picnic tables dotted the grassy area, along with large trash barrels and a covered pavilion at one end. Beyond the picnic area, a hill swept down to a large duck pond with a path and park benches around it.
“Let’s watch from a distance,” Nancy suggested. “I don’t want to scare him off.”
The girls walked down to the pond and seated themselves on one of the benches. The only other person they could see was an elderly woman who was sitting on a bench on the far side of the pond. She was tossing bread crumbs to the noisy ducks that had gathered around her, demanding a handout.
“I wish I’d brought some bread,” Bess said wistfully. “I used to come here when I was little.”
“You and I came, too, Nancy,” Lee Ann said, “with Mom.” She pointed to the other side of the duck pond. “In fact, there’s the fence you were climbing on when Mom took your picture—the one in the painting, remember?”
“That’s right,” Nancy said, looking in the direction Lee Ann was pointing to. She paused before going on. “Lee Ann, can you tell me a little bit more about the gallery?”
“Sure. What do you want to know?”
“Tell me about Rodney.”
Lee Ann sighed. “Rodney is a very gifted artist.”
“Really?” Bess said.
She nodded. “He came to work for the gallery about a year ago, shortly after Mom hired Annette. At that time, he was very enthusiastic. He loved my mother’s work.”
“Wow,” Bess said, her eyes wide with surprise. “Talk about a personality transformation. This doesn’t sound like the Rodney we met yesterday morning!”
“I know,” Lee Ann replied.
“Is that why he came to work at the gallery?” Nancy asked. “Because he wanted to study with Lila?”
“Yes,” Lee Ann answered. “I think he wanted to be around my mom to learn some technique. Also, I’m pretty sure he thought Mom would be his mentor. You see, it’s hard to break into the art field. Another successful artist can help by contacting dealers who will promote new talent. And Mom has helped some. She hangs some of his work in her gallery.”
“So what happened to his enthusiasm?” Nancy inquired.
Lee Ann stared at Nancy a moment before answering. “Rodney wanted to be included in this exhibition on Saturday, but Mom said she didn’t think he was ready. And she’s been so busy getting herself ready for the show that her communication with Rodney has mostly been in the form of bossy orders. You know how Mom can be. Anyway, I think Rodney was disappointed at Mom’s treatment of him at first, and then, downright resentful.”
Nancy nodded, turning over in her mind all that Lee Ann had said. Then Nancy glanced up and saw a man and a woman enter the park and walk to one of the picnic tables. She took a small pair of binoculars from her purse and held them up to her eyes.
“Who is it?” Bess asked anxiously, peering over Nancy’s shoulder. “The con man?”
Nancy shook her head. “He doesn’t even resemble our man.” She slipped the binoculars back into her bag.
The sounds of loud quacking came from across the pond. Turning, the girls saw that the old woman had run out of bread, and the ducks were demanding more.
“All gone,” the girls heard the woman sing out to her webbed-footed followers. “All the bread is gone now.”
Gradually, the noise died down, and one by one the ducks waddled away from the woman and back to the pond.
Nancy turned her attention back to Lee Ann.
“Tell me about Annette,” she said. “You say she’s been with the gallery a little over a year?”
“That’s right,” Lee Ann said with a nod. “She came just two months before Rodney joined us.”
“She’s very pretty,” Nancy commented. “Does she have a boyfriend—or is she married?”
“She was married. But only about a year, I think. Her husband died shortly before she came to work at the gallery.”
“Hmm,” Nancy said. “So you never knew him?”
“No. Annette doesn’t talk about him very much, either. In fact, she’s really pretty quiet about almost everything. She doesn’t talk very much about herself or anything other than gallery business.” A smile spread across Lee Ann’s face, and she added, “But she sure knows what’s going on at the gallery. She’s very organized.”
“What about her parents? Are they living?” Nancy asked.
“I don’t think so,” Lee Ann said. She scratched her forehead thoughtfully. “You know, this is funny. I didn’t realize until just now how little I really know about Rodney and Annette. What goes on in their personal lives, I mean.”
Nancy nodded. She couldn’t help wondering if it was just a coincidence—or if Rodney and Annette had something to hide. Nancy had been watching the elderly woman as she thought, and now an idea came to her.
She rose quickly from the bench. “Let’s talk to the woman across the pond,” she said. “Maybe she can help us.”
Bess and Lee Ann followed Nancy around the pond. When the old woman saw them approaching, she gave them a warm smile.
“Hello, girls,” she said in a kindly, singsong voice. “I just finished feeding my babies. Did you see how they flocked to me?”
“We certainly did,” Nancy said. “Do you come here often?”
“Oh, my, yes!” the woman told them. “I come almost every day—to take care of my babies. They’re like family, you know. There”—she pointed to a gray-and brown-flecked duck sitting near the willow tree next to the pond—“that’s Millie. That’s what I call her, and she comes whenever I call her by name. Oh, they’re smart, these ducks. They know what’s going on, and they all know their names!”
The woman smiled. “Oh, I’m forgetting myself.” She extended her hand to Nancy. “I’m Agatha Wilson. I live across the street.”
The girls shook her hand and introduced themselves.
“Mrs. Wilson—” Nancy began.
“Call me Agatha, please, dear. Come here and sit down.” She patted the bench next to her, and Nancy sat down. Bess and Lee Ann stood next to them.
“Agatha,” Nancy said, “we’re looking for a person who has his lunch here quite frequently. I wonder if you might know who I’m talking about.”
Agatha eyed Nancy curiously.
“He’s about six feet tall,” Nancy continued. “Thin, with a mustache and glasses. He has a rather large, round nose. Does that description sound like anyone you see here frequently?”
“Do you know this man you’re looking for?” Agatha asked. She looked a little wary.
“No. We’re just trying to find him. A little boy told us that the man comes here frequently to have lunch.”
“What little boy?”
“His name is Mike Hawkins,” Nancy said.
“I know him.” Agatha’s eyes lit up, and she smiled. “He helps me feed the ducks sometimes. He’s a rascal, though.”
Nancy smiled politely in return, but she wanted to get back to the subject of the con man. “Do you know who the man is?” she asked.
“No,” Agatha replied. “I haven’t seen anyone who looks like your description.”
“Okay, thanks,” Nancy said. She started to stand up, but the old woman stopped her. “There is a group of young people—a little older than you girls, I’d say—who come here quite often and bring their lunch. Little Michael talks to them whenever he’s here.”
“But none of them looks like the man I described?” Nancy said.
“No, not exactly,” Agatha said. “But then my eyes aren’t what they used to be.”
Agatha gazed off beyond the pond, and the girls took this as their cue to leave. Just as they were saying goodbye, Agatha sat up straighter and pointed.
“There they are!” she said excitedly. “Those same young people I told you about.”
Nancy, Bess, and Lee Ann followed her gaze. A group of four people walked out of the woods at the edge of the park. Nancy judged that they were probably in their twenties. They lingered in the parking lot near the green van that was parked near Nancy’s Mustang.
“Come on,” Nancy urged her friends. “Let’s go see who they are.” She turned to Agatha and extended her hand once again. “Thank you, Agatha. It was nice talking to you, and we appreciate your help.”
“And you, my dear,” Agatha sang out pleasantly. “I hope you find whoever it is you’re looking for.” She winked and added, “I’d think any young man would be delighted to meet some nice young girls like you.”
The girls waved goodbye to Agatha Wilson, then headed quickly around the duck pond, keeping an eye on the four people in the parking lot. They were still about a hundred feet away when the two women and one of the men in the group climbed into the van and started it up. One man was still left standing in the parking lot. He waved to his companions as the van pulled out of the lot.
Nancy ran a few steps and stopped. “Excuse me!” she called out. “Don’t leave yet. I want to talk to you!”
The three people in the van either couldn’t hear Nancy or had no desire to talk to her. They quickly drove out of the lot and down the street.
“Want me to follow them, Nancy?” Bess called out.
“Yes,” Nancy said, tossing her the car keys. “They’re all we have to go on right now.”
The man who hadn’t gone with the others looked up from where he stood in the parking lot. When he saw Nancy, his eyes widened in surprise. She smiled at him, but before she had a chance to say hello, he turned and bolted into the woods.
5. A Serious Threat
Nancy raced toward the woods.
“Nancy!” screamed Lee Ann. “Don’t follow him—he could be dangerous!”
Nancy didn’t pause or look back. There wasn’t time.
She knew that Lee Ann might be right about the man being dangerous. He didn’t look exactly like the swindler who had come into the gallery the day before, but he certainly seemed to recognize her. He was tall and slender like the con man, and he had the same dark hair. And even more suspicious, he took off when he saw her coming. Why would he run if he hadn’t done anything wrong?
Nancy knew she had to follow him. She raced on, her purse bumping against her side. She reached the edge of the parking lot in a flash and entered the woods at the point where the man had disappeared.
After being in the bright sunlight, Nancy found the woods dark and shadowy, but she could make out a narrow footpath leading into its depths. She heade