Word that Nikki Kolista was coming to perform in River Heights spread faster than the poison ivy I got last summer. Everyone was talking about it, and it sounded like everyone planned to come to the concert. Luckily our friend Mayor Simmons helped us secure the town’s largest concert venue for free. The concert hall was downtown, and it was large enough to hold two thousand people. The show was going to be huge, and I was thrilled. Of course, between selling tickets and dealing with the staging, sound, lighting, and concessions, it was going to be a ton of work—too much for Bess, George, Ned, and me to handle on our own, which is why we put out a citywide call for volunteers.
We were all gathering at one of the conference rooms in the town hall at seven p.m. When I walked into the meeting five minutes early, I was shocked to find the room so packed. It seemed as if half of River Heights were crammed inside. The chairs must have filled up a while ago, because lots of people were sitting on the floor, and some were even lined up at the wall in the back.
Mrs. Diver rushed over to me right away and gave me a hug. “Nancy Drew, I don’t know how you did it, but I’m thrilled that you did.”
“I’ve been trying to call you,” I said. “I feel bad that you already asked your students to perform. I don’t want you to think there isn’t room for them. Maybe they can be the opening act.”
“Don’t be silly,” said Mrs. Diver, waving her hand in the air as if to dismiss the thought. “My students are just as excited as I am. And, by the way, one of my students is the star act. I taught Nikki Kolista how to play the guitar.”
“Really?” I said.
Mrs. Diver nodded. “Yes, I’m really aging myself by admitting this, but she started coming to me when she was eight years old. I always knew she had tons of talent, but I’d never imagined she’d become a world-renowned musician. It’s so thrilling to see a former student—especially one who was so sweet—become so successful.”
“Well, I am so happy to have you,” I told her.
“Any help you need, just ask,” said Mrs. Diver. “But we can talk about that later. I’d better get back to my seat before I lose it.”
“Thanks, Mrs. Diver.”
My heart warmed as I looked at all the friendly faces. Joshua Adams was there. He not only had agreed to donate a batch of banana bread to sell at the concert, he’d also offered to make the bread every single day for the next week, donating all proceeds to the River Heights Animal Shelter.
George’s little brother, Scott, was a huge Flying Monkeys fan, so he was volunteering in hopes of getting to meet Nikki in person. He’d even brought his friend Nelson Fadley. Nelson is a cute kid—skinny, with large brown eyes that you hardly ever see because his floppy dark bangs are always falling in his face. He rides his skateboard everywhere and is hardly ever seen without his pet iguana, Iggy. Iggy was even at the meeting now, snoozing on Nelson’s shoulder.
But before I made it across the room to say hello, I saw my dentist. “Hi, Dr. Wolfson,” I said. “I didn’t know you were a fan of Nikki Kolista.”
For some reason, Dr. Wolfson’s face got bright red. “Oh, Nancy. I should have known you were behind this. I’m not a fan, exactly,” he said, coughing. “I mean, I don’t know her music very well.”
I tilted my head to one side and smiled at him. “So you must be here because you love animals.”
“Actually, I’m allergic to all things furry,” said Dr. Wolfson. He eyed Iggy the iguana cautiously. “And amphibians just make my skin crawl. You don’t think that thing will get loose in here, do you?”
“Nelson keeps him on a leash. I’m sure we’re safe,” I said, trying to suppress a grin. (I didn’t want Dr. Wolfson to think I was laughing at him, even though I was—but in a strictly good-natured way.) “So if you don’t like Nikki’s music and you don’t like animals, why are you here? I mean, if you don’t mind my asking.”
Dr. Wolfson shrugged. “I just, well—I had some time, and I thought it would be good to do something for the community.”
“Fair enough,” I said. What else could I say? Dr. Wolfson is always kind of awkward when he isn’t in his lab coat, peering into a patient’s mouth. Whenever I see him in town, like at the grocery store or on River Street, I always say hello, and he always seems quiet and withdrawn. Right now, though, he seemed even more uncomfortable than usual.
I decided to start the meeting. Clapping my hands, I called everyone to attention. “Welcome, everyone. Thanks so much for coming! Justine Tamworth couldn’t be here tonight—she is busy studying—but she wanted me to express her gratitude. She’ll be thrilled to hear that so many people want to help raise money so we can rebuild the shelter. I thought we’d start by introducing ourselves.” I turned to my right. “Bess, do you want to go first?”
“Sure.” Bess stood up and smoothed down her yellow corduroy skirt. “My name is Bess Marvin.”
As everyone stated their name, I looked around the room. It was a familiar crowd. I saw a bunch of volunteers from the shelter, and also some neighborhood friends. In fact, we were halfway through with the introductions before I saw someone I didn’t know. He was a tall, bald man with green eyes. His name was Stefan Kinsley, and he said he worked at Rackham Industries.
I thought it was a bit strange that someone from Rackham would volunteer for this cause. If we were successful, they wouldn’t get to build. I wondered if Stefan worked with David Wells. Had David sent him to the meeting to spy? Maybe this was somewhat far-fetched, but my other leads were drying up. I’d spent a little time that evening looking for contact information for Peter Sandover and I hadn’t found anything. I needed something to go on, so I made a mental note to talk to Stefan later on.
After George, Scott, and Nelson introduced themselves, it was my turn.
“Hi, everyone. My name is Nancy Drew. I’ve lived in River Heights all my life and I’ve been volunteering at the River Heights Animal Shelter for years. Now I suppose we can—”
“Excuse me,” said Deirdre, interrupting me as she strolled into the room, twenty minutes late.
“Oh, don’t worry about it,” I said, completely unfazed by her rudeness. But what was she doing at this meeting? “Um, Deirdre, this is a meeting about the benefit concert for the animal shelter. You know that, right?” I figured she was in the wrong place, since she’d made her opinion of the shelter and its strays very clear before.
Deirdre glanced at her manicured nails and asked, “This is the committee that’s organizing Nikki Kolista’s concert, right?”
“Yes,” I said.
“Then I’m in the right place,” Deirdre said. “I’d like to be involved in this. After all, Nikki is my cousin.”
“Really?” I said, unable to hide my surprise.
“Yes,” said Deirdre, “which is why I think I should be in charge of this committee.”
“That’s ridiculous,” George called as she stood up. “This whole thing was Nancy’s idea, and she’s already worked so hard. You’ve never even been near the River Heights Animal Shelter.”
“True,” said Deirdre, “but Nikki’s mom and my mom are sisters. Plus,” she added, turning to me, “Nancy is always in charge of everything. Why not give someone else a chance? I mean, why is it that she always has to be in the spotlight?”
I groaned. Deirdre was so missing the point, and it was time someone told her. “I’m not in the spotlight,” I said. “And that’s not why I’m doing this. This isn’t about a rock concert. It’s about raising money for the animal shelter.”
“ And it’s about hosting the most famous rock musician in the world.” Deirdre crossed her arms over her chest and narrowed her eyes at me. “Don’t pretend like you’re not thrilled with the idea of meeting my cousin.”
“I’m interested in meeting anyone who’s willing to help us rebuild the shelter,” I answered honestly.
“Are we going to get started?” asked Harold Safer. “Because the movie version of South Pacific is coming on at eight o’clock, and I really want to be home for it.”
“Sorry,” I said. People were starting to talk among themselves, and we really needed to move on before all focus was lost. “Deirdre, why don’t you have a seat and we can discuss this after the meeting.”
“No,” said Deirdre, staring me down. “I want you to explain why you get to be in charge, yet again.”
This was getting embarrassing. I didn’t want to debate with Deirdre. All I wanted to do was start the meeting so we could be that much closer to rebuilding the shelter.
“Nancy does have lots of volunteer and fund-raising experience,” Bess pointed out. “Deirdre, what have you done for the community lately?”
“Lately,” George mumbled. “How about, ever?”
“Shh.” Bess elbowed her lightly in the side and whispered, “I’m trying to be diplomatic here.”
“I was on the committee that organized the charity ball at the country club last year,” Deirdre said proudly. “It was a fabulous event. Everyone who’s anyone in River Heights was there.”
“You mean, all of River Heights’s richest people,” said George, rolling her eyes.
If Deirdre heard George, she didn’t let on. “I have lots of connections to the philanthropic community and, as I said, Nikki is my cousin—so it only makes sense. I want to be in charge of this, and I deserve to be in charge,” she finished.
I honestly didn’t know what to do next, so I was really happy when Ned stood up and said, “Why don’t we take a vote.”
It was a great idea. Deirdre thought so too. “Thank you, Ned. You’re so brilliant,” she said. “You’re like my knight in shining armor.”
She really was too much. Her last comment confused everyone.
“All those in favor of having Deirdre run the fund-raising committee, raise your hands,” said Ned.
A few people raised their hands, including Nelson, who asked, “Does Iggy get a vote too?”
“Who?” asked Deirdre.
“My iguana,” said Nelson, standing up so everyone could get a better look at the green and brown amphibian sitting on his shoulder.
Deirdre shuddered and said, “Yuck.”
Nelson grinned as if Deirdre had complimented him. “Iggy wants you to be in charge, Deirdre,” he said, before sitting down.
“And all those in favor of Nancy?” Ned asked.
Almost everyone in the entire room voted for me. It felt good to know that I had the support, but I felt bad for Deirdre. It had to be embarrassing for her—not that she seemed to mind making a stink in the first place.
“Okay,” I said, relieved that this silly feud was over. “Let’s get started.”
“Wait a minute,” Deirdre called, standing back up. I’d expected her to quit, but instead she said, “At the very least, let me organize a party for Nikki after the concert.”
I had no problem with this. And actually, throwing a party for Nikki would be a great way of thanking her for coming out to perform. “That sounds great to me, Deirdre.”
Deirdre smiled and said, “Perfect.”
Once we were through with that nonsense, I started assigning people to various committees. Joshua and Harold were in charge of food and beverages. Mrs. Diver would take care of sound. Dr. Wolfson would handle the lighting. Stefan was interested in working on security, which I didn’t think we needed, but he was pretty convincing. George, Bess, Scott, Ned, and I were in charge of ticket sales and general coordination on the day of the event. Nelson wanted to help Deirdre, but she was too grossed out by his iguana, so she sent him over to work with my group.
Once we had a plan in place, I excused myself so I could talk to Stefan. I caught up to him just as he was leaving. “Hey Stefan, I just met a guy you work with,” I said. “David Wells.”
Seemingly surprised, Stefan turned around and said, “I don’t know anyone by that name.”
“Really? I thought everyone over at Rackham knew David. There was a big article about him in the paper last week.”
“Oh, that David Wells,” said Stefan, glancing at his watch and then out toward the parking lot. “The new guy—yeah, I know who he is, but we don’t work together.”
“You know that Rackham is trying to buy River Heights Animal Shelter’s land out from under them, and that this whole concert is happening so we can stop them, right?” I asked.
Stefan cringed. “I do know that, Nancy. Can you please do me a huge favor and keep quiet about my involvement. I love my job, but I love animals more.”
“No problem.” I grinned, realizing I was probably jumping to conclusions. It was possible to be an animal lover and a businessperson. And just because Stefan worked for Rackham didn’t mean he had to agree with all of their decisions.
“Do you have any pets?” I asked.
“Sure,” said Stefan. “I have a golden retriever named Ollie. In fact, I’d better get home to walk him.”
“Okay,” I said. “And don’t worry. Your secret is safe with me. It’s not like I hang out with anyone who works at Rackham, but even if I did, I wouldn’t say a thing.”
“I appreciate that,” said Stefan, before getting into his silver sports car and driving off.
I turned around and walked back inside, thrilled that everything was falling into place. Nikki Kolista’s concert was going to be huge. I was sure we’d raise enough cash to save the shelter.
I was about to head back to my group when Ned pulled me aside. With a sheepish look on his face, he said, “Uh, Nancy, you’re not going to like this, but Deirdre convinced me that I had to help her with her party. It seems that she’s already fired the rest of her committee.”
I had to laugh. “I’ll bet she did. That’s just so typical.”
Ned looked confused. “So, you’re not mad?” he asked.
“I have no time to be,” I told him. “Between organizing the concert and trying to figure out who set the fire, I’ve got too much to juggle. Deirdre is always going to be pulling stuff like this, and I can’t waste time stressing over it. Plus, I trust you.”
“Ned!” called Deirdre in a shrill voice. “Can you get back here, please? I need your help with something.”
“Nancy, you’re the best,” said Ned, leaning over and kissing me on the cheek. “I’ll still help out with your committee too. Don’t worry.”
“I’m not worried,” I called, grinning as he walked back to Deirdre.
When she put her hand on his shoulder, my smile faded. I tried telling myself not to be upset. Ned is an amazing boyfriend, and I trust him completely. He was only helping Deirdre because he was too nice to say no. I knew that—yet, for some reason, I still had this icky feeling in the pit of my stomach.
Following Leads
The next day, I spent the entire morning trying to track down some sort of information about Peter Sandover. My first stop was with Layton Bourdevarx, a local painter who lives at the other end of town. I figured that if there was new competition, Layton would know all about it.
Layton was helpful. He hadn’t heard of any business called Peter Paints, but he was able to give me some good leads: three hardware stores that had the best prices on paints. Anyone in the business would go to one of those three, he was sure.
After calling Justine to find out what color the shelter was going to be painted, I went to each of the three hardware stores—but not one could recall selling any paint to Peter.
“Are you absolutely positive?” I asked the salesman at the third shop, just to make sure. “He’s a tall guy with bleached-blond hair, and he would have been buying eggshell white. He may have been using a different name.”
The salesman shook his head. “Sorry, Nancy. I’ve checked my sales records. No one has bought eggshell white in weeks. Other versions of off-white, sure—but not eggshell.”
“Okay, well, thanks for your help,” I said as I made my way out of the store.
Once in my car, I pulled out my cell phone and called all of the other nonprofits in town to see if Peter had offered to paint their buildings. He hadn’t.
Next, I called some apartment buildings and the local real estate agencies to see if there were any new people in town who matched Peter’s description. A couple of brokers mentioned David Wells, but it seemed like he was the only new guy in town. No one had heard of any Peter Sandover. Even going by just his description got me nowhere. Apparently, no tall, blond, pale, green-eyed guy in his thirties had recently moved to town—or if he had, he hadn’t gone through normal channels to find a place to live.
I was starting to get suspicious. Worse than that, I was out of leads. How do you track down a guy who isn’t who he says he is? A guy who may not even exist?
The only thing I could think to do was try a new angle. No one can develop land in River Heights without a permit, and the whole Rackham Industries connection to the River Heights Animal Shelter was curious. It definitely merited further investigation, so I headed to city hall.
Ms. Talby, the secretary of the Land Use Department, knows me very well, and was happy to give me access to the archives in the basement of the building.
Digging through the recent permit applications, it didn’t take me long to find the file that I needed. Turns out, Rackham Industries had filed their request to expand their property weeks before the fire. All the plans had been worked out and submitted by an architect. That meant someone who wanted to build had assumed that the animal shelter wouldn’t be a problem. Yet Justine assured me she’d told Rackham in no uncertain terms that she had no intention of selling. I dug through the file until I found the person at Rackham who had applied for the permit: David Wells.
I had to wonder, did David grow tired of hearing Justine say no, and decide to take matters into his own hands? Did he wake up in the early morning hours to set the fire, and then wait until the building was almost destroyed to call the fire department? Did he have some connection to Peter Sandover, or to whoever was pretending to be a painter named Peter Sandover? Or was that just a strange coincidence?
I wanted to look into things further, but then I noticed the time.
Justine and I had plans to meet at Mugged near the university. Of all the Muggeds in town—and there are a bunch—that one’s my favorite, and I was going to be late.
As I was driving over, George called me on my cell. She was all excited because she’d created a website for the show, so it was now possible to buy tickets online. They’d sold two hundred tickets in the first few hours that the website was up.
I was eager to share the great news with Justine. Once I got to Mugged, I ordered a cappuccino and then went to find her.
She already had a table at the back of the coffee shop. From the looks of the area—she had books all over the place, three open notebooks, an empty coffee mug, and a plate with a half-eaten croissant—she’d been there for a while.
“Hey, Justine,” I said, sitting down across from her. “How’s the studying going?”
“Hi, Nancy,” she said. “It’s been better. You wouldn’t believe how many bones there are in the body of an anteater. Here’s something I have to recreate from memory on Thursday morning.”
She showed me an intricate-looking diagram of an anteater with at least one hundred arrows pointing to various bones and body parts. At the bottom of the page was a list of names printed in tiny letters. Just looking at it gave me a headache.
“Anyway,” said Justine, closing her textbook and rubbing her temples with her fingertips, “Harold told me about the meeting last night. I am so thrilled that you’re doing such a great job.”
“It’s my pleasure,” I said. “I just hope we raise enough money to rebuild.”
“You’re not the only one,” said Justine. “But when we spoke, it sounded kind of urgent. What’s up?”
“Well, for one thing, I’ve been trying to track down Peter Sandover everywhere, and I can’t find him.” As I explained the steps I’d taken to find Peter, the worry lines around Justine’s eyes deepened.
“So you think he may have something to do with the fire?” she asked. “I don’t know why I trusted him. This is all my fault. I feel horrible.”
“It’s not your fault,” I said. “And this is just a theory. But you won’t believe what I found out about David Wells.”
Justine leaned in closer and whispered, “What?”
I lowered my voice too. “He filed the paperwork to get a permit for his expansion into the animal shelter’s property weeks before the fire. It’s almost as if he knew what would happen—that the River Heights Animal Shelter wasn’t a real obstacle. I’m wondering if he hired someone to pose as a painter to get the key to building.”
Justine shook her head. “Well, that would certainly explain the news I just got from Chief Cloud.”
My ears perked up. “What’s that?”
“He said the fire was definitely set from the inside. That means whoever started it probably had a key.”
“How many keys were there?” I asked.
“Four,” said Justine. “I had one, and two employees had keys. And there was one spare key, which I gave to Peter Sandover.”
“Does Chief McGinnis know about this?” I asked.
“He does,” said Justine with a sigh. “But Chief McGinnis seems to think that a fire starting from the inside supports Chief Cloud’s original theory about electrical problems.”
“Even though he knows you just had the building inspected?” I asked.
“Even so,” Justine replied gravely.
“That’s crazy,” I said. “It could be so many things. Chief Cloud didn’t rule out arson, did he?”
“Nope.” Justine shook her head. “I tried to tell him, Nancy. And please, do me a favor—don’t talk to Chief McGinnis. I don’t want your dad getting upset with me. He’s doing so much to help out. How will it look if I get his only daughter into trouble?”
I took a sip of my cappuccino to hide my disappointment. “I can promise you I won’t talk to the police chief yet, but I’m not going to stop investigating the fire. There are too many loose ends. I can’t just walk away from this.”
“And I wouldn’t ask you to. Please, just be careful,” said Justine.
“I will,” I said. “Don’t worry.”
After quizzing Justine on anteater anatomy, I went home for a quick dinner before the evening concert committee meeting.
Before I even walked into the conference room, Deirdre pulled me aside. “Nancy, we need to talk,” she said, in an urgent-sounding whisper. She had a piece of paper in her hand. Thinking it was connected to the fire investigation, since that’s all I had on my mind, I followed her down the hall.
“What is it?” I asked.
Deirdre smiled. “Nancy, I hate that I have to show you this. Believe me, it’s not easy. I feel horrible, I truly do. But you can’t control people’s feelings, can you?”
“What are you talking about, DeeDee?” DeeDee is Deirdre’s nickname from back when we were kids. She can’t stand it when I call her that, and I actually wasn’t trying to annoy her. The nickname just popped right out of my mouth.
“It’s Deirdre,” she answered curtly. “And I think you’d better take a look at this.”
She handed me the paper. It was a note, scrawled in pencil.
Deirdre,
I love the way your green eyes shine.
I only wish that you were mine.
Sincerely, N
“What is this supposed to be?” I asked, completely confused.
“A love letter,” Deirdre replied, unable to restrain the huge smile on her face, “from your boyfriend.”
I looked back down at the note. It was signed by N, which I guess she thought stood for Ned. As if.
“First of all,” I said, “this isn’t even Ned’s handwriting.”
Deirdre grabbed the note out of my hands. “Maybe he wanted to disguise his normal writing so you wouldn’t find out.”
I shook my head. “There’s no way. Ned is not a sneaky guy, and we’ve always had a very honest relationship. If he was interested in someone else, he’d tell me and we’d stop dating.”
Deirdre carefully folded the note and placed it in her purse. “Keep believing that, Nancy Drew,” she said. “But when all is said and done, you can’t say I never warned you.”
Ollie or Riley?
I was really stuck. Somehow I knew that David Wells was connected to the fire. I just didn’t know how. Nor did I have enough evidence to prove that he was guilty. And I couldn’t even approach him. Something told me that even if I asked David the most innocent question, he’d run straight to Chief McGinnis. The two had become very chummy all of a sudden. I saw them eating lunch at the local steak house yesterday. And over breakfast this morning, my dad happened to mention that David had joined the police chief’s weekly poker game.
My best link to David was through Stefan. I waited for him after the next meeting. He was on the security team, which got out just a few minutes after my team. As I walked him out to the parking lot, I asked, “So, I was wondering. Do the Rackham executives know about the concert and how big it’s going to be? I’ll bet they’re worried about not getting that land.”
“I don’t know,” said Stefan. “That’s not the kind of thing I’m involved in.”
“Oh,” I said. This wasn’t going so well, but I wasn’t about to give up. “What department did you say you worked in again?”
Stefan’s eyes darted to the left and then right as he ran his hands through his short hair. That was funny. When we met, he was bald. I’d assumed he’d lost all his hair naturally Now it was clear that he had hair, but that he’d recently shaved his head for some reason. “I never told you,” he said. “But it’s new business development.”
“So does that mean that David Wells is your boss?” I asked.
“No,” Stefan replied quickly.
“Oh, I thought he told me that he was the vice president of new business development.”
“Well, he is,” said Stefan. “So I guess he is, technically, but I have a lot of bosses. You know how it is at these big corporations. It’s a huge department, so I don’t even work that closely with him. In fact, we hardly ever talk.”
This was weird. From the research I’d done, it sounded like Stefan and David worked very closely. Yet he was so quick to deny it. I framed my next comment carefully. “Nikki Kolista must be his biggest nightmare.”
It may have been my imagination, but Stefan seemed to bristle at the mention of Nikki. “Look,” he said as he backed away from me, “I don’t know why you’re asking me about this. I really don’t know anything. And, in fact, this is my car. I’d better go. Riley is waiting.”
“Riley?” I asked.
“Yes, my golden retriever, Riley,” he replied as he quickly opened his car door and then slid into the driver’s seat.
“How many dogs do you have, Stefan?” I asked.
“Just one. See you later, Nancy,” he replied as he slammed the door shut, and quickly sped off.
As I watched the lights from Stefan’s silver sports car disappear into the distance, I knew he was guilty of something. The other day, his dog was named Ollie. And now it was Riley? He couldn’t even keep his dog’s name straight, which probably meant that there was no dog. Perhaps his whole interest in animals was a front.
I couldn’t be sure that Stefan had anything to do with the fire, but I did have a feeling that he was spying for David. If only I could prove it.
I turned around to head back inside and found myself face-to-face with George.
“Hey, George. Things are getting more complicated with the whole fire investigation. I think that maybe Stefan is involved. Have you noticed anything strange about him?”
George stared at me with this strange look on her face, like she had news but dreaded sharing it with me.
“Did you hear me?” I asked.
“Yeah,” she said, kicking at the asphalt with the toe of her sneaker. “But that’s not why I came out here to find you. The thing is, you would not believe what Deirdre is doing.”
“Deirdre?” She was the last person on my mind. I couldn’t even be bothered. “Who cares about her? Look, I think that Stefan Kinsley has something to hide. Maybe he and David are working together to sabotage the concert. I don’t know what’s going on exactly, but we need to get to the bottom of it before it’s too late.”
“Okay,” said George. “But the thing is...”
“Did you tell her?” asked Bess, who was rushing outside with a worried expression on her face.
“I was about to,” said George.
“Tell me what?” I asked.
“Deirdre just invited your boyfriend to some dance at the country club,” said Bess.
“Ned would never go out with Deirdre,” I replied.
George and Bess looked at each other without speaking.
“What?” I asked.
“I’m sure he doesn’t want to go,” said Bess. Her blue eyes were downcast. “But Deirdre is kind of forcing him to.”
“She gave him some whole sob story about how her date canceled on her and she’s got no one to go with and it’s really important to her,” said George. “If you ask me, it’s a lot of nonsense.”
“That, I’d believe,” I said. “Anyway, I can’t worry about this sort of thing. The more time I waste on thinking about Deirdre, the less time I have for the River Heights Animal Shelter.”
“You’re right. How’s the investigation going?” asked Bess.
“Not well.” I shook my head. “I can’t find any evidence that this guy Peter Sandover ever existed. I have a feeling that he was actually some random guy who was hired by David Wells to pretend to be a painter so he could get the key. What I don’t have is any evidence to prove it. Now I think Stefan is involved too, and I have this icky feeling that things are about to go horribly wrong.”
“What if the painter was David Wells himself?” asked George.
“I considered that, but it’s impossible,” I said. “David is short with dark hair. The painter was tall and blond. Plus, this Peter guy had green eyes, and David’s eyes are brown.”
“Someone could dye their hair pretty easily or even wear colored contacts,” said Bess. “But I guess height is pretty much a constant.”
“Yes,” I said. “That’s what I was thinking.”
“So what’s our next move?” wondered George.
“I was just figuring that out,” I said, happy that she said ‘our’ next move, because I definitely needed their help. “I probably need to pay a visit to Rackham Industries after hours, though. Say, at midnight, tonight... anyone care to join me?”
Bess and George didn’t answer me with words. They didn’t need to. From the mischievous grins on their faces, I knew exactly what their answer was.
Breaking and Entering
My adrenaline was pumping as I slipped out of my house at midnight. I felt like some sort of criminal, which made sense. Not only was I sneaking around like a thief, I was also dressed like one, in dark jeans, gray sneakers, surgical gloves (so I wouldn’t leave fingerprints anywhere), and a hooded black sweatshirt.
I felt bad not telling my dad what I was doing, but I had no choice. He’d never let me leave the house at such a late hour. And breaking into Rackham? Well, there was no way he’d support that.
I had to do it, though. There was too much at stake. I waited on the corner, down the block, for Bess and George to pick me up. Shivering in the cold darkness, I tried not to think about Ned, who would have picked up Deirdre hours ago for the dance. He was probably looking really cute in his navy blue, pin-striped suit. I knew he was only escorting her because he was too polite to say no, so I don’t know why I was letting it bother me.
I glanced at my watch, again. It was ten minutes after twelve.
Suddenly I saw blinding white headlights pop up over the hill. Hiding behind a tree, I watched them get closer. It was such a relief when I realized it was Bess and George.
Once they stopped, I climbed into the backseat of the car. Bess and George were also wearing black, although George’s shirt was button-down and Bess’s had a lace trim.
“Hey, thanks for picking me up. Are you guys ready for this?” I asked.
“I guess,” said Bess. Her hair was swept up in a twist and secured with a black velvet bow. Only Bess could turn breaking and entering into an excuse to wear glamorous accessories. And yet, despite her fashionable attire, she seemed nervous.
“Don’t worry,” I said. “You guys don’t even have to go inside. I just need you to drop me off and to be on the lookout.”
“What are you searching for, exactly?” asked George.
“That’s the problem,” I said, fiddling with my flashlight to make sure it still worked. “I’m not entirely sure.”
“Whatever it is, I hope you find it,” said Bess. “The concert is only a couple of nights away. And if you think David Wells was crazy enough to burn down the shelter, who knows what he might do to stop the benefit.”
“No pressure,” George added.
As if. I took a deep breath. “The concert will be amazing,” I said. “There is nothing David can do to ruin it. Bess, are you still working with Nikki’s manager to arrange her flight?”
Bess nodded. “Yup, it’s all taken care of. She’s arriving at two o’clock on Saturday. I’d pick her up from the airport myself, but that’s when we have the first sound check. Mrs. Diver wants me to be there in case any of the equipment is down.”
“That’s a good idea,” I said. Bess would be able to fix any type of mechanical problem. “And I’m happy to pick up Nikki.”
“I’ll come too,” said George. “And, actually, would you mind if Scott joined us? He’s been bugging me about Nikki ever since we started organizing this show.”
“There’s plenty of room for Scott,” I said. “Don’t worry.”
“Thanks,” said George. “I know it’ll mean a lot to him.”
As we approached the Rackham Industries office park, everyone stopped talking. I guess my friends were as nervous as I was.
Bess parked around the corner, off the paved road and in the middle of a clump of trees, so her car wasn’t in view. “I really hope this works,” she said nervously as she cut the engine.
“You’re not the only one,” I replied, stepping out of the car.
We walked through the woods, downhill and around the buildings, until we were at the main structure. It was the largest one and in the middle of the group. The buildings had been around for years, and the locks on the doors were the old-fashioned kind, which meant that it was easy to open them with a carefully placed bobby pin. I pulled one from my hair, bent it into place, and put it in the keyhole, fiddling around until I heard a faint click. Then I pulled the door open.
Before walking inside, I turned to Bess and George. “I’ll keep my cell phone on. If you see anyone coming, call me.”
“Will do,” George whispered.
“Good luck,” said Bess.
“Thanks,” I replied. “I’ll need it.” I slipped on through, closing the door behind me.
The office was dark, so I had to turn my flashlight on to look around. The first things I noticed were all of the cubicles spread out across the floor, each with identical desks and computers. There were two rows of printer banks at the front, and offices along either side. I figured a vice president like David Wells would have a corner office. They’re usually bigger and go to the employees who are higher up on the corporate food chain. I headed to the corner office closest to me and opened the door. I tiptoed across the room carefully, even though I knew I was alone, and inspected the desk. On top of it was a framed photo of a gray-haired man and what I assumed were his kids and wife. There was a stack of business cards in a cardholder, which told me that this office belonged to someone named Jason Bristol.
Walking out, I moved across the hall to the next corner office and aimed my flashlight at the door. Bingo. The nameplate read DAVID WELLS.
I went inside and surveyed the office. At first glance, there was nothing out of the ordinary. It was meticulously neat, and impersonal. At one end sat a black leather couch. On the other end, a large glass desk. In the center was a coffee table with a stack of magazines—mostly golf- and cigar-related. Much to my disappointment, there was no closet. I figured that meant there was no place to hide anything, but then I noticed the file cabinet by David’s desk. It had three drawers. Crouching next to it, I pulled on the top drawer. It was locked, but that wouldn’t be a problem. Using my bobby pin again, I had it open within a matter of seconds.
The first two drawers revealed nothing out of the ordinary—just a bunch of files about the financials of Rackham Industries. It was the same story with the third drawer. I was feeling disappointed when something occurred to me. The files in the bottom drawer sat so much higher than the ones in the other two drawers. That probably meant there was something underneath them.
Lowering my ear to the bottom of the drawer, I knocked. It sounded hollow. I wondered if there was something hidden inside.
I quickly pulled out the files and felt around the bottom of the drawer. It was smooth black metal, with a looped handle in the back. I pulled on the handle and the entire bottom opened up. Beaming my flashlight down, I could hardly believe what I found inside: a bottle of peroxide, some decals with PETER PAINTS printed on them, and a couple of pieces of paper. One was a flyer advertising a new painting business, signed by Peter Sandover.
The other was a letter addressed to the CEO of Rackham Industries. It read:
Dear Mr. Halloran,
Plans for the expansion are moving along smoothly. The city has approved the architect’s plans. There’s one small stumbling block, but I’m working out how to fix it. Once this is resolved, I expect a promotion.
Sincerely,
David Wells
I read the letter twice more, getting angrier each time. That small stumbling block had to refer to the River Heights Animal Shelter. David was definitely behind the fire, and now I had the evidence to prove it. Not that I took any joy in learning the truth. I couldn’t believe anyone could be so heartless. Sure, it looked like he went out of his way to come up with a plan to keep the animals from being burned with the building. But he’d still destroyed their home. He’d still tried to obliterate a nonprofit agency all in the name of corporate greed.
I was so wrapped up in my thoughts that I didn’t even notice my cell phone was ringing until it was too late. I missed the call, but saw on my caller ID that it was Bess. I dialed her number right away.
Bess picked up on the first ring. “I’m sorry I didn’t call sooner,” she said in a breathless tone of voice. “I had to run to a place where they wouldn’t hear me. There are cop cars here, two of them. I was hiding in the woods when George tried to distract them. Someone is chasing her right now. And it looks like an officer is approaching the building.”
“Yikes!” I said. “Can you tell who it is?”
“Nope,” said Bess. “Not from here. Look, I’m going to hang out here for a while. Try to meet me at the car after they leave.”
“Will do.”
“Good luck, Nancy.”
“Thanks,” I said.
Hanging up, I could already hear the door to Rackham opening. I hid David’s letter, the Peter Paints flyer, and the stickers in my back pocket. I slipped the peroxide bottle into the waistband of my jeans. Then I closed the false bottom, replaced the files, and closed the cabinet.
Next, I ducked down and crawled out of David’s office. I could hear someone’s footsteps. It sounded like they were opposite the exit, which was about ten feet away. The door was loud and heavy. There’s no way I’d be able to leave through it undetected. I had to find another option. It was then that I noticed the window right above my head. If I acted quickly, I’d be able to climb out.
The officer’s back was to me, so I quickly popped up, unlocked the window, and opened it. It squeaked loudly, so I dove down behind the bank of printers. Peeking out from behind it, I saw a flashlight beam sweep the area. Luckily, it completely missed me and the open window. When it pointed in the other direction, I hurried back over.
Leaping up, I had my head out the window and could feel the night air and all the freedom it offered. I hoisted one leg up over the windowsill and was almost all the way out when I felt a hand on my ankle.
Turning around, a beam of light flashed in my eyes and someone bellowed, “Well, if it isn’t Nancy Drew.”
I dropped back down inside, holding up my hands. Whoever it was lowered the beam. I blinked, and my eyes adjusted to the darkness.
Once I recognized the face behind the flashlight, I let out a nervous laugh. “Chief McGinnis,” I said. “Funny seeing you here.”
A Long Ride Home
“Breaking and entering a private building,” said Chief McGinnis, “at one o’clock in the morning.”
Chief McGinnis almost never looks happy to see me, but now he seemed downright furious. I felt bad, and not just for getting caught. The way he accused me made me realize something. Breaking and entering was wrong, even if I was only doing it to prevent a bigger wrong. I was in serious trouble. Yes, I had evidence linking David Wells to the fire, but it’s not like I could tell the chief that. The timing couldn’t have been worse.
“Guilty as charged,” I mumbled as I followed Chief McGinnis out to the parking lot, where two squad cars were parked.
“Hi, Nancy,” said Joe Rees, another River Heights police officer who was, fortunately for me, a friend. He was casually leaning against the hood of his car.
“Hi, Joe,” I mumbled sheepishly.
“Nancy Drew, is that you?” Sergeant Emily Kim asked as she stepped out of the woods, pulling leaves from her hair.
Feeling my face burn red with embarrassment, all I could do was wave.
“Where’s the other one?” asked Chief McGinnis.
Sergeant Kim shook her head. “I couldn’t get a positive ID. Whoever it was, was too fast.”
Phew, I was happy that George and Bess got away, at least. With hope, they were on their way home, soon to be safe in bed.
The chief turned back to me. “I suppose you’re not going to tell us who you were with,” he grumbled.
“I’m here alone,” I replied. Well, technically, it was true. There was no need to turn in George and Bess. This was my idea, and if anyone had to get into trouble, it should be me and me alone.
“What are you doing out here, anyway?” asked the chief.
I shrugged, which seemed to anger him even more.
“I should really take you downtown for questioning,” he said. “But I don’t want to put your father through that.”
“I’ve learned my lesson,” I said quickly. “This won’t happen again, sir. I’m really, truly sorry.”
“Hah,” said the chief. “I’ll believe that when I see it. I’m going to stick around and see if I can’t find anyone else. It’s the least I can do, after being woken up in the middle of the night over this. Joe, will you take Nancy home?”
“Sure thing, boss,” said Joe, opening the front door of his squad car for me.
Before I could get inside, Chief McGinnis said, “Nancy has to ride in back.”
Joe looked at me, mouthed a silent apology, and then opened up the back door.
With heavy shoulders and a sinking heart, I climbed inside. The backseat of a police car is one of my least favorite places in the world.
I don’t end up there very often, but whenever I do, I feel so suffocated. That’s probably because it’s nearly impossible to get out of the backseat of a police car alone. They’re designed with no door handles so that criminals can’t escape. There is also wire mesh and bulletproof glass separating the passenger compartment from the front seat. It’s an uneasy feeling, riding in the back. I guess Chief McGinnis wanted to teach me a lesson, and I suppose I deserved it. At least he’d let Joe drive me home.
“So, how did you find me?” I asked Joe as we pulled away from the office park.
He glanced at me in the rearview mirror and said, “Rackham has a silent alarm system now.”
I crossed my arms over my chest. This was news to me. “Huh.”
“There’s a lot of changes over there,” Joe went on. “They’ve got some new hotshot MBA from Harvard, and he’s trying to double productivity by the end of the year. Pretty soon, Rackham could take over this entire city.”
“David Wells, you mean?” I asked.
Joe nodded. “That’s the guy.”
“Do you know him?” I asked.
“Not personally, but Chief McGinnis does. So, do I even need to ask what you were doing, sneaking around here at this hour?” asked Joe.
The evidence burned a hole in my pocket. I was afraid to turn it over, though. I needed to think of a foolproof way to catch David Wells.
“I think I’ll take the fifth,” I said.
“Suit yourself,” said Joe, with a shrug. “I’m sure it’ll come to light soon.”
“It will,” I assured him.
“But don’t forget, any evidence you may have found at Rackham can’t be used in court.”
“Huh?” I said.
“Well, you’re not the police, and you didn’t have a search warrant. If you try to use what you found, you could end up in jail yourself.”
“What for?” I asked.
“Breaking and entering, trespassing, theft,” said Joe. “And those are just the obvious three. I’m sure Rackham’s lawyers would come up with all sorts of stuff.”
Just then, something occurred to me. “What makes you think I found anything?” I asked.
I saw, through the rearview mirror, that Joe was grinning. “There’s a slight bulge in the back of your shirt,” he said. “But you didn’t hear it from me. In fact, let’s just say that I, like Chief McGinnis, never even noticed it.”
I couldn’t help but smile. “Notice what?” I asked.
“Exactly,” Joe replied.
Moments later we drove past the gates to Mission Hill, and then past Deirdre’s country club. I saw Ned’s car, and then something even worse: Ned himself. He was opening the door for Deirdre. It’s not like they were holding hands or anything, but they were laughing.
I sank down farther in my seat. The last thing I needed was for them to see me in the back of a squad car. Now I was fuming. I just couldn’t believe they were out so late together. Ned told me he was going because he was obligated, but he seemed to be having a good time. What did that mean?
If Officer Rees noticed that my boyfriend was out with Deirdre, he didn’t say so, and I was grateful for that. We sat in silence for the rest of the trip. After pulling up in front of my house, he got out of the car and opened the backseat door for me. “Have a good night, Nancy. Good luck with everything.”
“Thank you,” I replied, before disappearing into the house.
After hiding the evidence in my bottom drawer, I changed out of my clothes and slipped into bed. I couldn’t sleep, though. There was too much on my mind. Joe had raised a good point. Yes, I now had enough evidence linking David Wells to the crime, but I’d have to prove it some other way.
The case kept me up most of the night. I must have fallen asleep at some point, though, because the next thing I knew, the sun was streaming in through my blinds, making stripes on my plain blue bedspread.
Almost as soon as I opened my eyes, it came to me. Stefan Kinsley worked with David. He was tall and pale, and he had green eyes. His hair was short and dark, but who knows what it looked like before he shaved it?
What if he shaved his head because he had to hide the fact that he’d dyed it blond? David Wells must have made him pretend to be Peter Sandover to get the keys to the shelter. And if Justine could identify him, we’d be that much closer to proving that David Wells was guilty.
Throwing the covers back, I reached for my phone and dialed Justine’s number.
“Hello?” she said in a sleepy voice.
Jumping out of bed, I paced back and forth across my bedroom floor. “I’m sorry to wake you, but this is an emergency. I need your help with something.”
“What is it, Nancy?” asked Justine.
“Can you come to the benefit concert meeting tonight? I think I found Peter Sandover.”
“Um,” said Justine, “I think I can rearrange my study group. What time is the meeting?”
“Six o’clock,” I said.
“Okay,” said Justine. “I’ll be there.”
“Perfect.”
As soon as we hung up, I called George. “Are you okay?” she asked. “I left you a million messages on your cell phone.”
“I know, I’m sorry. I was too depressed to call back. Chief McGinnis caught me, but it all worked out okay. You’ll never guess what I found in David Wells’s office...”
After explaining my theory to George, I called Bess. They both thought it all sounded just crazy enough to be true.
That night, I waited for Justine outside, feeling really anxious. Before she even showed up, though, Deirdre walked over to me.
“Ned and I had the best time last night,” she said.
“Glad to hear it,” I replied coolly. No way was I going to let her know how much it bothered me. “Ned’s sweet that way. He’s always willing to help out a friend in need. Even people who aren’t friends. He’s the kind of guy who just can’t say no.”
If Deirdre saw where I was going with my conversation, she ignored it. Flipping her hair over her shoulder, she smiled and said, “I’d no idea your boyfriend was such a good dancer.”
I shrugged. I mean, really, what could I say to that? “How’s the party planning coming along?” I asked, trying to change the subject.
“It’s so great,” said Deirdre. “I managed to secure the garden room at the country club. It’s small, so there’ll only be room for about fifty people, but that’s okay. Sometimes more intimate is much nicer, don’t you agree?”
“Sure,” I said. “And we have about twenty-five volunteers, so as long as there’s room for them.”
“Um, actually, I’m not going to be able to invite all the volunteers,” said Deirdre.
“You’re kidding, right?” I asked.
Deirdre shook her head. “This is a VIP party, Nancy. And there are so many important people in River Heights. Don’t you think it would be better for Nikki to spend time with them? I’m sure she’s not going to want to hang out with the regular people.”
“ Regular people?” I said, completely incredulous. Just when I think Deirdre has strayed as far from the realm of decent behavior as she can, she takes another step. “It’s regular people who have worked so hard to make this concert happen,” I said.
“Sure, whatever,” she said, handing me a note. “That’s not what I wanted to talk to you about, anyway. I need to show you this.”
We’ve met many times and you always play it cool,
But believe me, Deirdre, I’m no fool.
There’s no need to hide how we really do feel.
It’s time to find out if this could be the real deal.
After the concert, it won’t be too late
For us to go on a really fun date.
Sincerely, N
Okay, this was getting ridiculous. I handed the note back to her. “I’m telling you, Deirdre, this isn’t from Ned. I just know it. For one thing, that poetry is lousy. He’d do much better.”
“Maybe he was in a hurry,” said Deidre, happily as she placed the note back in her purse. “We’ll find out soon enough, won’t we?”
I was so glad I spotted Justine just then at the other end of the parking lot. “Sure thing, Deirdre. Gotta run.”
Hurrying over to Justine, I said, “Thanks so much for coming.”
“You’re welcome, Nancy. I just wish I could stay longer, but I have an exam first thing in the morning.”
“This won’t take long,” I said, leading her into the conference room, where all of the subcommittees were grouped.
Scanning the crowd in search of Stefan/Peter’s face, I was disappointed to see that he wasn’t even there.
I was about to apologize to Justine when I noticed she was staring at someone else. Pointing across the room, she said, “I think that’s him.”
Thinking I must have missed him, I followed her gaze.
Then I gasped. Justine was pointing to a tall, pale guy with green eyes and blond hair, but he wasn’t Stefan Kinsley.
“Are you sure about this?” I asked.
Justine squinted. “I’m not positive, but it certainly could be him.”
I really wished that Stefan had showed. That way, Justine would have someone to compare him to. The guy she was pointing to now was none other than my dentist, Dr. Wolfson.
Did he have some sort of secret connection to David Wells? What could have motivated him to pose as a painter? Clearly there was more work to be done.
The problem was, we were running out of time.
Star Struck
“Just remember, don’t ask for her autograph right away,” George warned her brother Scott, who sat in the backseat of my car, wearing a Flying Monkeys T-shirt and carrying his collection of Nikki’s CDs in his lap.
“I won’t,” Scott promised.
“She’s had a busy morning of travel, and she’s doing us a huge favor,” George went on. “So just act friendly, welcoming, and relaxed.”
I couldn’t believe it was already Saturday afternoon, just hours before the concert, and that I was on my way to the airport to pick up Nikki Kolista. Throwing together the benefit concert so quickly had been thrilling, but also exhausting. I got so busy with last-minute details that I hadn’t even had time to get additional proof that David Wells was responsible for the fire. I guess I’d have to worry about that after the show.
“A lot of celebrities just want to be treated like normal people,” George said, looking over her shoulder at Scott. “Nikki, especially. I’ve read a lot about her.”
“I said I won’t ask her for an autograph. I promise to act totally normal,” said Scott, rolling his eyes. “Will you please just chill, Georgia?”
“And don’t call me Georgia,” said George.
“Why not? It’s your name,” Scott said, kicking the back of George’s seat lightly.
He had a point, but I wasn’t about to say so.
Nor did I voice my own concern about Nikki. Since she was Deirdre’s first cousin and a world-famous rock star, I had this fear that she would be a snob—as if perhaps Deirdre’s snobby attitude were genetic. I was so nervous about meeting her that I’d asked Deirdre if she wanted to pick up Nikki instead. Deirdre claimed to be too busy organizing the party at the country club. “I’m not a chauffeur” I believe were her exact words, which she delivered with a disdainful sneer.
I parked my car in the airport lot, and by the time I got out and locked the doors, George and Scott were already halfway across the parking lot. I had to run to catch up with them.
Nikki’s flight had landed early, so there were lots of passengers from Seattle milling around the baggage claim. Even though the airport was crowded, it wasn’t hard to find her. For one thing, the River Heights Municipal Airport is pretty small. But more significantly, Nikki looked just like she did on TV: petite and muscular, with pale skin and long, curly, black and bright pink hair.
Today Nikki was dressed pretty casually, in dark blue jeans and a faded purple T-shirt. She wore a green baseball cap pulled down low.
“Hi, Nikki,” I said as I approached. “I’m Nancy Drew. I’ll be driving you to the concert hall downtown.”
Nikki smiled warmly. “It’s so nice to meet you,” she said as she offered her hand.
“It’s a pleasure meeting you, too,” I replied, relieved. Already she seemed much nicer than Deirdre. “Thanks so much for coming to River Heights. It means so much to us all. Please meet my friends George and Scott Fayne.”
Nikki gave a small wave to the two, and said to Scott, “Nice T-shirt.”
“Thanks,” said Scott. “I’m a huge fan of your music.”
“That’s so great to hear,” Nikki replied.
I took Nikki’s duffel bag from her hand. Scott reached for her guitar, but she pulled it away. “Um, actually, I always carry this myself,” she said with a sheepish grin. “Call me superstitious, but I always need to be within a few feet of my guitar. I even sleep with it under my bed because whenever it’s out of reach, I get really nervous.”
“That’s cool,” said Scott. “The car is this way. Come on, I’ll show you.”
As we followed Scott back to the parking lot, I noticed that George still hadn’t said a word.
“Are you okay?” I asked in a whisper.
But George didn’t hear me. She was too busy rushing ahead and opening the car door for Nikki.
“Thanks, George,” said Nikki.
“Can I have your autograph?” George blurted out. Then, as her eyes widened in surprise and embarrassment, she covered her mouth with both hands. “I’m so sorry,” she said. “I can’t believe I said that!”
“Neither can I,” mumbled Scott.
“It’s no big deal,” said Nikki, pulling a pen out of her back pocket. “What should I sign?”
George felt the pockets of her jeans. “Um, I don’t have anything, actually. Wow, this is so embarrassing.”
Shaking his head, Scott handed his sister a CD, which she passed along to Nikki.
Once that was out of the way, we all got in the car and drove back into town, with Nikki in the front seat and George slumped in back, looking completely mortified. Scott was next to her and he wore a mischievous grin. Poor George. I just knew her little brother would be teasing her about this moment for a long time.
“So, when was the last time you were in River Heights?” I asked.
Nikki shook her head. “It’s been a long time. I went away for college and then moved to London. I was living in Europe when I met the other Flying Monkeys and we sold our first album. Soon after that, we all moved to Seattle. I’ve been touring off and on for the past few years. Somehow, I’ve just never found the time to visit.”
“But you still have family here, right?” I asked.
“Not really,” Nikki replied. “My parents and my brother moved to Chicago years ago.”
“But what about the Shannons?” asked George.
Nikki looked out the window at the tall trees and rolling green hills. “Oh, right,” she said. “The Shannons. How could I forget?” Turning back to me, she asked, “So, what’s the deal with the shelter? How did the fire happen?”
Feeling my shoulders tense up, I frowned. “That’s the problem. We still don’t know exactly. It could have been an accident, or there might be more to the story. I have my suspicions, but no proof.” I went on to tell her about the Rackham Industry threat to the land, leaving out the parts about David Wells and the mysterious painter. There was no need to worry Nikki. Still, even though I didn’t say so directly, Nikki seemed to sense that there was more to the story.
“That’s the funny thing about River Heights,” she said. “On the surface it seems like such a nice place to live. Yet, when you look more closely, there always seems to be something more going on—something brewing beneath the surface. It’s almost like the town is somehow cursed.”
“We can’t argue with you there,” I said. “But, luckily, we’ve raised so much money, thanks to you, that the animals will probably be saved, regardless of whether the mystery is ever solved.”
We were approaching downtown. When I turned onto River Street, I could tell that Nikki was getting more excited. “Wow, the concert hall looks exactly the same. I can’t believe I’m going to be performing there.”
George laughed. “Nikki, you’ve performed at the most famous clubs in New York, all over Europe, and even in Tokyo, and you’re excited about a show here in little old River Heights?”
“Yeah,” said Nikki. “This is different. I can’t explain it, really, but there’s something about coming back to your hometown. There’s so much history and so many memories.”
“Do you keep in touch with anyone you knew back then?” asked George.
Nikki took off her hat and ran her fingers through her hair. “Not really,” she said.
“Well, Mrs. Diver sure is excited about seeing you,” I said.
“Oh, I can’t wait to see her,” Nikki said. “Does she still teach?”
“She sure does,” said Scott. “I used to take drum lessons from her.”
As I pulled up in front of the concert hall, I said good-bye to Nikki. “Thank you, again, for being here. This means so much to us. I need to go run some errands, but George and Scott are going to take you to your dressing room and make sure you get settled.”
“Okay,” said Nikki. “Thanks for the ride. It was really nice meeting you, too, Nancy.”
I waved. “I’ll see you in a couple of hours.”
“Definitely,” Nikki replied as she picked up her guitar case by its handle and headed toward the concert hall. Scott and George followed close behind with her luggage.
As I hurried over to Joshua’s bakery to pick up a batch of banana bread, I noticed that it was already four o’clock. There was so much to do before the show, which began at eight o’clock. As the supervisor of all of the committees, it fell t