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ПРИЯТНОГО ЧТЕНИЯ!
Carolyn Keene
Nancy Drew Mystery Stories: Volume Ninety-Eight
The Haunting of Horse Island
Copyright, 1990, by Simon & Schuster
Cover art copyright by Aleta Jenks
GHOST RIDERS’ HIDEWAY!
Friends of George’s parents invite the girls to visit their rustic retreat in upstate New York. With its riding stables and canoes, the resort seems a dream come true. But before Nancy can hitch up her hiking boots, she discovers that the natural beauty of the place has been overshadowed by a supernatural mystery!
A series of threatening messages, a poisoned picnic, and tales of a haunted mansion on the resort’s supposedly deserted island have sent many of the patrons packing. But wild horses couldn’t pull Nancy away. She’s out to uncover the truth behind THE HAUNTING OF HORSE ISLAND before the entire resort ends up a ghost town.
A Mountain Retreat
“Just think!” said Bess Marvin from the back seat of the car Nancy Drew was driving. “A whole week at Triple Tree Lake. Swimming, sunning, eating—and no scary mysteries to solve!”
Nancy eased the car the girls had rented around a curve in the road and winked at Bess’s cousin George Fayne, who was in the passenger seat next to her. “That’s right,” Nancy said. “Unless, of course, the ghosts decide to cause trouble!”
“What?” Bess cried, her blue eyes wide. She leaned forward and hung her elbows over the front seat. “Nobody ever told me there were ghosts at the Steadman Resort! George, is that why they asked us to come—so Nancy could solve their ghost mystery?” She hooked some loose strands of straw blond hair behind her ear and looked worriedly at her cousin.
George turned and grinned at Bess. “Those ghost rumors have been around for years. They’re just crazy stories someone made up. No, my dad and Mr. Steadman have been friends since college. Mr. and Mrs. Steadman called and invited my parents to come for a week, but Mom and Dad couldn’t make it. So they invited me and two friends.”
“I’m looking forward to doing absolutely nothing but having fun,” Nancy admitted.
“Well, you deserve a rest!” Bess said, thumping Nancy on the shoulder. “You’ve been jumping from one case to the next for a long time. It exhausts me just to think about all the detective work you’ve done lately!”
Nancy gazed out at the forested hills that surrounded them. The wind rushed through the open window, snatched at her reddish blond hair, and whirled it around her shoulders. “Upstate New York is really beautiful,” she commented. “Just look—green as far as the eye can see.”
“But what about these ghosts?” Bess” pressed. “Is the Steadman Resort really haunted?”
“No,” George said, tying a blue bandanna around her short, curly hair to keep it from blowing in the breeze. “But there is an island in the lake—Horse Island—that people say is haunted. Of course, it’s not.”
“There was a drowning in the lake years ago,” Nancy said. “Isn’t that what you told me, George?”
George nodded and said, “Several people have claimed to have seen the ghosts of the drowning victims out near the island.”
Bess shivered and then sat back in her seat again, folding her arms. “I’m not even going to think about ghosts. All I want to do is rest, eat, and get a tan.”
“Good idea,” Nancy agreed, her blue eyes smiling at Bess in the rearview mirror.
“We’re almost there,” George said, consulting her map.
“Look, there’s a sign,” Nancy said, slowing the car. “ ‘Steadman Resort on Triple Tree Lake.’ The arrow points left.” Nancy turned onto a narrow dirt road.
“Wow, we’re really in the deep woods now,” Bess said. She took a breath and let it out with a sigh. “Don’t you love the smell of the trees and earth? It smells so—well, healthy or something.”
Nancy drove the silver car deeper into the forest. Birch and pine trees loomed tall and thick over the road and allowed only a slight filtering of late afternoon sunlight to sift to the ground. The road was rough and uneven with exposed roots. The car pitched slightly from side to side as it made its way up and over hillocks.
Finally they pulled into a sunny clearing, where a large sign loomed over them: Welcome to the Steadman Resort on Beautiful Triple Tree Lake.
“All right!” cried Bess. “It was a long drive, but we made it!”
They rounded a bend, and the lake, blue and crystal clear, came into view. “Oh, man, the lake is beautiful!” George exclaimed. “Anyone for a swim?”
Nancy laughed. “Hold on, George. We’ve got to check in at the lodge and find our cottage and unpack—”
“And don’t forget food!” Bess added. “By the time we get all that done, we’ll be ready for dinner!”
George grinned and held up her hands in defeat. “Okay, okay, I give up,” she said. “Hey, there’s the lodge and dining room,” she pointed out as she read the sign on a large log building up ahead. Rattan furniture was positioned on the porch that wrapped around the lodge, and several guests were relaxing there in the shade. Nancy parked the car, and the girls piled out and stretched their stiff muscles.
“Well, this must be George Fayne!” a voice called out. “The same short, curly brown hair and brown eyes I remember when she was a baby.”
A balding, portly man dressed in tan slacks and a blue knit shirt walked toward them with a big smile on his face.
“Mr. Steadman!” George said. “My dad has shown me pictures of you!”
“Probably from my leaner days,” he chuckled. “And Call me Henry. Come on inside. Ruth is working at the desk.”
Henry held the door open as the girls trooped into the lodge. The registration desk was just inside the entrance. Beyond it was a lounge with comfortable sofas and dark wood tables strewn with magazines. A large stone fireplace took up the far wall. The room smelled of wood and good food. To the left was the entrance to the dining room, and the girls could see attractively set tables in front of large picture windows that overlooked the lake.
A petite, dark-haired woman stood behind the tall registration desk.
“Ruth, little George Fayne is here!” Henry announced to his wife.
Tall, athletic George laughed. “Not so little anymore,” she said, and she shook hands with the smiling woman.
Ruth Steadman greeted her warmly. “George, we’re sorry your mom and dad couldn’t make it, but we’re so pleased that you came.”
“Henry and Ruth, this is my cousin Bess Marvin and my good friend Nancy Drew,” George said.
“Good to meet you, girls,” Henry said.
Ruth nodded and said, “We’ve put you in cottage seventeen, which is down the road a little and right next to the lake. I think you’ll like it.”
“We love it already,” said George. “It’s beautiful here.”
“Good!” Henry boomed. “That’s what we like to hear.”
“Just as long as we don’t run into any ghosts,” Bess said lightly. “People I like; ghosts I don’t care for.”
Henry and Ruth Steadman glanced worriedly at each other, and Nancy was immediately curious.
“Nancy is a well-known detective, you know,” Bess continued. “Hanging around with her has gotten us into some pretty scary situations.”
“Yes,” Henry said, turning to Nancy. “I’ve heard of your talent for solving mysteries, Ms. Drew. It’s exciting to meet someone with your reputation.”
“Thank you,” Nancy said modestly.
“There really aren’t ghosts here, are there?” Bess asked, trying in vain to keep her voice casual.
Henry forced a smile. “There have been stories about ghosts on Horse Island for a long time,” he admitted. “But I certainly don’t believe in ghosts, do you?”
“Well, not exactly,” Bess said. “That is, I’ve never personally seen a real ghost, and I was hoping I never would.”
“I’m sure we won’t see any ghosts,” Nancy reassured Bess. She wished she knew why the Steadmans seemed so nervous. Surely they didn’t believe that the island was haunted. “We’ve come to relax and enjoy the beautiful scenery.”
“Well, you’ve come to the right place,” Henry said. “Have a good week, and don’t be strangers. Are you going to eat your meals here at the lodge or cook in your cottage?”
“We’ll probably eat here,” George said.
“The special tonight is fried chicken,” Ruth told them. “Otis, our cook, fixes it so crunchy and tender that it melts in your mouth.”
“Oh, stop,” Bess wailed, “or I’ll drag you all into the dining room right now!”
Everyone laughed.
“Mr. Steadman, I was—” Nancy started to say.
“Please, call me Henry,” the man said. “And call my wife Ruth.”
“Thank you,” said Nancy. “I’ve been wondering about the name of the lake. Triple Tree? There certainly are more than three trees around here! Where did the name come from?”
Henry smiled. “When this area was first settled,” he said, “the people named this Triple Tree Lake because there were three tall oaks that stood alone in a small clearing at the far side of the lake. They’re no longer there.”
“I see,” Nancy said. “It’s a beautiful lake.”
“We feel lucky to be able to live here,” Ruth said, slipping her arm through her husband’s.
“Well, I hope we see you at dinner,” Henry said, handing George the key to cottage seventeen. “Enjoy your stay.”
After signing the register, the girls got back in the car. They drove farther down the dirt road and stopped in front of their cottage, a small log cabin at the edge of the lake. The cabin was shaded by tall pines, and the ground was covered with needles from the trees. A small screened-in porch covered the front of the one-story cottage. They climbed out of the car and unloaded their suitcases, a picnic basket, and raincoats. Loaded down with their belongings, they crossed the wooden walkway to the cottage. The porch door was unlocked, and it squeaked on its hinges when Nancy opened it. George unlocked the cabin door and pushed it open.
“This is great!” Nancy said as the girls entered the cottage.
“It sure is,” George agreed.
“And all to ourselves!” exclaimed Bess.
To the left of the door was a small kitchenette with a refrigerator, stove, and sink. To their immediate right was a picnic table, and straight ahead was the living area with a couch and several large chairs positioned around a pine coffee table, two standing lamps, another small lamp on an end table, and a huge rag rug on the floor.
“No TV!” Bess cried in dismay.
“We can listen to the crickets,” George said, grinning. “And read.”
“That sounds great for a change,” said Nancy.
“The bedrooms are over here,” George said, crossing the room. “There are two rooms with two beds each. How do you want to divide up?”
“George, you snore,” Bess said. “I know from experience.”
“No, I don’t. You just sleep too lightly,” George replied.
“Well, how about if you take the bedroom on the left,” Bess suggested, “and Nancy and I take the bedroom on the right?”
“Okay,” George said, “but I don’t snore!”
“Not much!” Bess teased.
“Nancy,” George called later from her bedroom as the girls unpacked, “did you notice how the Steadmans looked at each other when Bess mentioned the ghosts?”
“I did,” said Nancy. “Something was definitely bothering them.”
“What could it be?” George wondered.
“Oh, no, you don’t!” said Bess emphatically.
“What?” Nancy and George asked at the same time.
“We’re here for rest and relaxation!” Bess told them. “No mysteries, remember?”
Nancy laughed. “That’s right, Bess. No mysteries. Just peace and quiet for a whole week!”
Suddenly, from outside the cottage came an ear-shattering scream!
Uninvited Guests
Nancy, Bess, and George raced out the door of their cottage.
“Where did that scream come from?” George asked.
Her question was answered when another scream pierced the quiet evening air.
“That cottage over there!” Nancy yelled, running toward the small log building closest to their own. Bess and George followed close behind.
The girls arrived at the cottage in a few seconds. The heavy door was standing open, and the living room was visible through a screen door. The room was in a shambles—furniture over-turned, lamps broken, clothes and linens strewn around the floor.
“What happened here?” Bess gasped.
Nancy pounded on the screen door. “Hello?” she called. “Are you all right?”
“Oh, it’s awful!” a young woman’s voice cried.
“What a mess!” another female voice answered.
Nancy pounded again. “Hello?”
A girl with long, straight, white blond hair peeked out from one of the bedrooms. She was in her late teens, though there was a childlike expression in her large blue eyes. “Oh, come in,” she said in a high-pitched voice.
“Are you all right?” asked Nancy, opening the door. She, Bess, and George walked inside.
“We’re okay,” the girl said. “But look what someone did to this place!”
A second girl, a little younger than the first, appeared from the other bedroom. Her curly red hair was caught up in a ponytail at the top of her head. She wore a short purple skirt and a flowered top.
“Why would someone do this?” she cried.
“Did you see anyone?” Nancy asked.
“No,” the blond girl said, pushing her long bangs from her eyes. “We just got back from the lodge.”
“We heard screams,” George said. “We thought someone was hurt—”
“Oh, that was just my sister, Carrie,” the older sister told them. “She screams at everything.”
“I do not, Ann!” Carrie protested. “It’s a shocking experience to walk into your cottage and see things thrown all over the place!”
“You didn’t need to scream,” Ann insisted. “Ever since you were a little kid—”
“Was your door locked?” asked Nancy, hoping to distract the girls from their argument.
“No,” Ann said.
“We never lock it,” said Carrie. “I mean, we never thought we had to here in the woods.”
“Is anything missing?” Nancy asked.
“Missing?” Carrie repeated, looking around. “It doesn’t look like it. No, I don’t think so.”
“Did you check for things like jewelry and money?” Nancy asked.
“Well, no, not exactly,” Carrie admitted. “I was too busy screaming.”
“Why don’t you look around?” Nancy suggested. “See if you’re missing anything valuable.”
“I’d better check my pocketbook,” said Ann. She turned and walked into one of the bedrooms. Carrie disappeared into the other bedroom.
George looked questioningly at Nancy. Nancy shrugged. The ransacking of the cottage certainly suggested a robbery, but it was strange that the girls didn’t think that anything was missing.
“Our money’s still here,” said Ann, returning from her bedroom with a wallet and showing Nancy that there was plenty of cash inside. “The drawer was sitting in the middle of the room, but the wallet with our salaries in it was still there. Is this weird, or what?”
“Salaries?” Nancy asked. “Are you employed at the resort?”
“Oh, right, sorry,” Ann said. “I should’ve introduced myself. I’m Ann Burkle.” Carrie appeared from her room. “This is my sister, Carrie. We sing at the lodge every night after dinner. And we take the guests horseback riding.”
“But we’re mostly singers,” Carrie added. “We’re entertainers, and someday we hope to get a recording deal.”
Nancy smiled. “Right now we ought to figure out why your cottage was ransacked. We should look for clues. Did the intruder leave anything behind?”
“Like in a mystery novel?” Carrie asked. “What should we look for?”
“What kind of clues?” Ann asked at the same time.
“Anything that doesn’t belong to you,” Nancy said. “Anything the intruder might have dropped.”
The sisters began walking slowly around the living room, their heads down as they looked for anything unusual. Nancy, Bess, and George stood at the edges of the room and watched.
A white slip of paper on the picnic table in the kitchen caught Nancy’s eye. She stepped over to it. “Here’s something!” she exclaimed. “Look!”
“What is it?” Carrie asked as she ran over to the table. She picked it up and turned it over in her hand. “It’s a note! It says, ‘Get away from this resort immediately or you will be in great danger!’ “
Carrie’s eyes went wide with horror and she dropped the note. Once again she screamed.
“Will you stop that screaming?” Ann shouted.
“I can’t help it,” Carrie said. “I am scared to death by this note.”
“Can you think of anyone who would send you a threatening note?” Nancy asked.
“No, nobody,” Carrie wailed.
“Apparently somebody want us to leave here,” said Ann, slumping into a chair.
“Think a minute. Is there anyone at all who could have a reason for wanting you to leave the resort?” Nancy prodded.
The sisters gazed at each other with bewildered expressions and then shook their heads.
“Let me know if you think of anyone,” Nancy said. “I’m sorry this happened to you. I’m Nancy. This is Bess and George. We’re right next door if you need help any time this week.”
“Thanks for coming over,” Ann said. “This really is pretty scary. I just don’t understand it.”
“Well, you should probably be careful for the next few days,” Nancy said. “It could have been a prank, but just in case someone means business, you’d better be sure to lock your door.”
“We will,” Ann said.
“You can bet on that,” Carrie agreed. “And be sure to come to our show. We have tonight off, though.”
“What time do you usually go on?” Nancy asked.
“At seven-thirty,” Carrie said. “Sharp. Henry doesn’t like us to be late even one minute.”
The girls said goodbye and returned to their cottage.
“What an excitable girl Carrie is,” Bess said.
“She certainly is a character,” Nancy agreed, “although finding your cabin ransacked is a horrible experience. And that threatening note would scare anyone.”
“I hope they aren’t bothered anymore,” George said.
“So do I. Let’s change for dinner and then take a walk around the resort,” Nancy suggested. “I’d like to see what’s here.”
“Good idea,” George agreed.
“Yeah,” said Bess. “I especially like the dinner part. I’m starved!”
The girls changed from shorts to casual skirts and blouses and took a walking tour of the resort. The early evening sun was low in the sky, and the air was scented with the aroma of the nearby pine forest. Other guests, mostly couples and families, were out walking, heading toward the lodge for dinner. Their cheerful voices carried on the light breeze off the lake.
“This place has everything!” Nancy exclaimed. “A lake with a private dock and motorboat for each cottage, a heated swimming pool, stables for horseback riding, tennis courts—”
“A recreation cabin,” George chimed in, “and an archery field—”
“And a dining room with food!” Bess said. “Let’s eat!”
“I’m for that,” said George.
“This resort is famous for its good food,” George told Bess and Nancy as the girls headed toward the lodge. “Dad said people come back year after year just for the meals at the lodge.”
“This is going to be a terrific week, then,” Bess said heartily.
They arrived at the restaurant, and the hostess led the girls to their table, next to a window overlooking the lake. They all ordered the night’s special, fried chicken.
Their waitress, a young woman wearing a name tag that said Margie, smiled. “You’ll love it,” she said. “It’s better than any fried chicken you’ve ever tasted.”
“Great!” Bess said.
“Say, maybe you can tell us,” Nancy said to Margie. “We’re interested in the two singers, Ann and Carrie Burkle.”
Margie smiled. “Have you seen them perform?” Nancy shook her head. “They sing very well,” Margie said. “And they’re pretty funny. I don’t think they mean to be funny, though.”
“Are they friends of yours?” Nancy asked.
“Well, we’re not close or anything,” Margie said. “But everybody likes them.” She eyed Nancy curiously. “Why do you ask?”
“Oh, no reason,” Nancy said. “We just met them this afternoon, and they seemed very nice.”
Margie smiled cheerfully. “Yeah, they are. Well, I’d better get this order in for you.”
“Looking for the sisters’ enemies?” George asked Nancy after Margie had left.
“I guess,” Nancy said. “They just don’t seem like the type of girls who would cultivate enemies.”
“I know what you mean,” said George.
“No, they don’t,” Bess added.
A woman and a man holding a little boy’s hand came in and seated themselves at the next table. “But, Mommy, I don’t want to leave!” the boy wailed.
“Honey, our reservations are for three more days,” the man pleaded with his wife.
“Well, I just feel too nervous here,” the woman insisted. “Those bloodcurdling screams this afternoon! That was the final straw!”
Nancy and the girls looked at one another.
“Excuse me,” Nancy said, leaning over toward the family. “We couldn’t help overhearing. I can explain those screams this afternoon—”
“What on earth was going on?” the woman demanded.
“Two members of the staff had their cottage ransacked,” Nancy explained. “But nothing was taken.” Nancy felt there was no reason to tell the family about the threatening note. “It could have been just a mean prank,” she added.
“Ransacked?” the women said. “That’s it! We’re leaving!”
“Honey,” the man said.
“But, Mom—” the boy cried.
“No buts!” his mother said. “We’re leaving! This place is too scary!”
“You mean there’ve been other things going on?” Nancy asked.
“You’d better believe it!” the woman told her. “Yesterday, my husband found a live snake in his tackle box! He had shut it tight the night before and left it in the boat. Someone obviously put it there during the night!”
“Was it—” Bess began.
“No, it wasn’t poisonous,” said the woman, “but we didn’t know that! There are poisonous snakes in the area. I nearly had a heart attack!”
“Maybe it was a joke,” George said.
“Some joke!” the woman huffed indignantly.
“Yes, there are strange things going on,” a voice chimed in from the other side of the girls’ table. They turned to see a middle-aged man and his wife, who had been following the conversation. “Someone’s been prowling around our cottage at night, tapping on the windows.”
“Did you investigate?” Nancy asked.
“Of course,” the man said. “And we called the Steadmans, even though the tapping occurred twice in the middle of the night. But by the time Henry Steadman arrived—both times—the person was gone.”
The man’s wife leaned over. “I know that tapping on the window doesn’t sound terribly dangerous, but let me tell you, when you’re awakened in the dead of night by someone standing out in the darkness—”
“Oh, that sounds scary enough to me!” Bess said with a shiver of fear in her voice.
“See what I mean?” the first woman said, nodding. “That’s why we’re leaving. I’m not going to wait until something really bad happens and someone gets hurt.”
“What does Mr. Steadman say about all this?” Nancy asked. “He must be very concerned.” Now Henry’s worried glances at his wife made sense to Nancy.
“He’s more concerned about his pocketbook,” the first woman said. “He’s afraid all the guests will leave. And that’s exactly what we’re going to do!”
“Are you leaving, too?” Nancy asked, turning to the older couple.
“No,” the man said. “At least not yet. I don’t want to let some jokester scare me out of my vacation.”
“Good,” Nancy said. “I’m sure these things will end, or we’ll find out who’s behind them.”
Margie brought the girls’ salads, and the other diners began talking among themselves.
“Margie,” Nancy said, “we’ve just been hearing about some strange things going on here. Have you heard about them?”
Margie’s mouth tightened into a thin line. She lowered her voice. “I know what you’re talking about,” she said, “but the staff has been given strict orders not to discuss it with the guests.”
“Has anything happened to you?” Nancy whispered.
“No,” Margie said. “And I’m hoping nothing will.”
“Is this your first summer working here?” Nancy asked her.
“No, it’s my third, and nothing weird ever happened here before this,” said Margie. She hurried off to wait on another table.
Bess shivered. “I thought this was going to be a relaxing week.”
“Me, too,” said George. “But it’s a shame the Steadmans are having so much trouble here.”
“Yes, it is,” Nancy agreed. “Let’s talk to them later.”
After dinner the girls found Henry Steadman behind the registration desk. “Henry, could we talk to you?” George asked.
“Of course,” said Henry, a worry line creasing his wide brow. The girls huddled around the desk. Fortunately, no other guests were within earshot.
“Henry,” George said, lowering her voice, “we’ve been hearing about some pretty weird things going on here. What’s happening?”
“I don’t know,” Henry said seriously. “I wish I did. Ruth and I have been here for twenty years, and nothing like this has ever happened before.”
“Do you have any reason to think that someone might be angry with you?” Nancy asked.
Henry shook his head. “I mean, everyone has arguments occasionally with people, but I can’t think of anyone who would want to hurt me or my wife.”
“We overheard one of your guests say that she and her family are leaving,” George told him.
Henry nodded. “The incident with the snake. I can understand why that would upset her.”
“Another couple told us they’ve had prowlers,” Nancy said.
“And now the Burkle sisters!” Bess said.
“What?” cried Henry, surprised. “What happened to the girls?”
“Their cottage was ransacked,” Nancy said. “Nothing was taken, but they were pretty upset.” Nancy told Henry about the note and that Ann and Carrie had no idea who could have written it.
“They didn’t tell me,” Henry said. He shook his head. “I don’t know what to do.”
“Why don’t you have Nancy investigate?” George proposed. “You won’t find a better detective anywhere.”
Henry looked up hopefully. “Would you, Nancy?” he asked. “I know you came here for a relaxing week, but if you could—”
“I’d be happy to,” Nancy assured him. “We’ll have a good week, and in the meantime, I’ll nose around and see what I can find out.”
Henry’s worried expression faded a bit. “Thank you, Nancy,” he said. “I really would appreciate anything you could do.”
“Don’t worry,” George said. “If anyone can find out what’s going on, Nancy can.”
The girls left the lodge and walked toward their cottage.
“I just hope these weird things aren’t the work of a ghost,” Bess said. “Maybe it wants the lake to itself and it’s trying to scare people away!”
“I doubt that.” Nancy laughed. “A snake in a tackle box and a ransacked cottage sound like the work of human beings to me.”
“It’s hard to believe all this could be going on at such a peaceful place,” said George.
The girls stopped at their cottage door, and George pulled the key out of her pocket.
Just then a loud crash came from inside their cottage!
Island Lore
“Quick!” said Nancy. “Let’s catch them in the act!”
George shoved open the unlocked door. Nancy and George sprang into the room with Bess right behind.
“Anything in your room?” Nancy called to George, who had charged into her bedroom.
“The screen is unlocked and open,” George hollered back.
Nancy ran into the bedroom she was sharing with Bess. Nothing was disturbed.
At that moment Bess let out a shriek in the living room. Nancy and George raced out of the bedrooms.
“What is it?” Nancy cried out.
Bess stood frozen next to the door. She pointed slowly into the kitchen.
Nancy ran to the kitchen and stopped dead in her tracks.
There on the countertop sat a fat raccoon. The girls had left their picnic basket out, and the raccoon was helping itself to an apple left over from their lunch. The basket was tipped over on the counter, and three empty soda cans had landed on the kitchen floor.
“Oh!” gasped Bess, walking to the kitchen. “I had no idea raccoons were so big!”
“They have sharp claws, too,” added George, joining them. “Don’t get too close.”
The raccoon had backed into a corner behind a toaster, a trapped, frightened look in its eyes.
Nancy, Bess, and George stepped out of the kitchen. “What do we do now?” asked Bess.
“I have an idea,” said Nancy. She grabbed her knapsack off the table and took out a small bag of pretzels. “Maybe this will appeal to him,” she said, tearing open the cellophane bag. Nancy walked into the kitchen and lifted the screen in the window over the sink.
Then Bess and George followed Nancy out the door and around to the kitchen window. Standing on her tiptoes, Nancy placed one pretzel on the windowsill. The raccoon eyed it cautiously. Nancy dropped another pretzel on the ground below it, making a trail of pretzels leading away from the cabin.
The girls stood off to one side of the cabin and watched as the raccoon poked its head out the window and grabbed the first pretzel. Then it scrambled down the side of the cabin after the remaining pretzels.
Quickly Nancy, Bess, and George ran back into the cabin. Bess slammed down the kitchen screen. “Boy, raccoons look so adorable in picture books, but they’re a little scary in person.”
George laughed. “That’s my cousin, a real country girl.”
“They are bigger than you think,” said Nancy, smiling. “I’m glad we could lure him out. Henry has enough problems right now without worrying about getting rid of a raccoon.”
“Do you think the raccoon could have been the culprit in the Burkle sisters’ cottage?” asked George.
Nancy shook her head. “The note. Remember?”
“That’s right. How could I forget that note?” said George, dropping down into one of the living room chairs.
“How do you think the raccoon got in?” Bess asked, looking around a little nervously.
“Probably my bedroom window,” George said. “There’s a tree right outside it, and I’m sure the raccoon could have climbed up it and then gotten in through the window.”
“We’d better be more careful about locking this place up,” Bess said, “with all that’s been happening around here.”
Bess stretched out on the couch. “I don’t know about you guys,” she said, “but I’ve had enough thrills for one day. I’m going to bed early.”
“Good idea,” agreed Nancy, kicking off her sneakers. “I have the feeling we have a big day ahead of us tomorrow.”
“I haven’t canoed in a long time,” said George the next morning as the girls neared the boat house on the lake. “This will be great.” They had risen early, eaten a breakfast of waffles and strawberries at the lodge, and signed up for the guided canoe trip.
“We’ll get a chance to see more of the area,” Nancy said. “Maybe we’ll even get a look at Horse Island.”
“Please,” groaned Bess. “Do we have to go looking for ghosts?”
As the girls laughed, a handsome man in his late twenties approached them from the dock. His dark blond hair fluttered in the light breeze off the lake. A pair of sunglasses was perched on his nose. “Hello, ladies,” he greeted them.
“Hi,” they responded.
“Here for the canoe trip?” he asked.
“Yep,” said Bess pertly.
“Great. I’m Steve Matheson, the Steadmans’ activities director. I’ll be your guide.”
After introducing themselves, Nancy, Bess, and George followed Steve down to the dock. Other guests soon arrived for the trip. The first to show up were a young couple, Jeff and Cindy. They announced almost immediately that they were on their honeymoon. Then came the older couple who’d spoken to Nancy and the girls about the prowler at their window. They introduced themselves as Mr. and Mrs. Savage. Last to arrive was the Mathew family, a man and woman and their two little girls: Heather, who was nine years old, and Jessica, who was two years younger.
“Okay,” said Steve, consulting his sign-up sheet. “We’re all here. Who knows how to handle the stern of a canoe?”
“The what?” asked Jessica.
“I guess that means you don’t.” Steve chuckled. “The canoe is steered from the stern. That’s a fancy way of saying the back of the boat. You need to know how to do what we call a J-stroke to keep the boat on course.”
George raised her hand. She’d gone on many canoeing trips and was expert at handling a boat. Nancy also knew how to handle an oar. So did Mr. Mathew, Mrs. Savage, and Jeff.
“Super,” said Steve. “We have a pilot for each group. The canoes are stacked in the boat house. So are the life jackets. Let’s get going.”
Soon the boats were all in the water, and the group was paddling out onto the lake. “I forgot my suntan oil,” Bess said from her seat in the middle of the canoe between George and Nancy.
“Forget the oil and use the sunblock I threw into the canoe next to you,” cautioned George. “These aluminum canoes are like reflectors for the sun. You can get fried out here.”
“Oh, thanks,” said Bess.
Steve led the group along the shoreline, around a bend, and into a small cove. “Hold up here,” he called, raising his tanned arm. The canoers pulled up next to one another, and Steve turned his canoe so that he was facing them.
“Look sharp and you may see some deer along the shore,” he told them. “We also have foxes and skunks—”
“Not to mention raccoons,” George said, and Nancy and Bess chuckled.
“What about the horses?” asked Heather Mathew.
“What horses?” Steve asked.
Heather pointed to the island about a mile off in the middle of the lake. “Isn’t that Horse Island?”
Steve nodded. “There used to be wild horses living there,” he explained, “but they were removed and tamed years ago.”
“Oh,” the girl said glumly. “You mean there are no wild horses there anymore?”
“I’m afraid not,” Steve told her.
Bess asked the question that had been on her mind since they had arrived. “I hear the island is haunted,” she said with a nervous laugh. “I don’t suppose there’s any truth to those stories, is there?”
“We heard that, too,” Cindy said, glancing at her new husband. Then she turned back to Steve. “Have you ever seen ghosts near there?”
“No, I can’t say that I have,” he said, smiling. Then he grew serious and gazed at each of the guests individually. “But Horse Island is off-limits to the guests at the resort,” he told them. “And there is a very good reason for that. Even though hunting is illegal at this time of year, there are people who go to the island every summer and kill wildlife. These people are irresponsible with their weapons and act as if they’re having a big party. A couple of years ago, three Steadman guests decided to explore the island, and two of them were accidentally shot by careless hunters.”
The guests gasped.
“Did they die?” Mrs. Savage asked anxiously.
“No, but they nearly did,” Steve said.
“You couldn’t get me near the place,” Cindy said nervously.
“Yeah, we won’t go there,” Bess agreed, obviously relieved that she wouldn’t have to go to the island.
“How did Horse Island get the reputation of being haunted?” Mr. Savage asked.
“That’s an interesting story,” Steve said. “About fifty years ago, a wealthy New York financier built a summer home on the island. He and his wife lived there off and on for about ten years. But one summer evening their boat capsized in the lake during a storm, and they were drowned.”
“And people say the man and his wife are still wandering on their island?” Bess asked anxiously.
“Well, that’s what some folks say,” Steve said. “Several people have reported seeing the ghosts of the couple. Usually on dark, rainy nights.”
Bess shivered. “Let’s talk about something else,” she said. “This conversation is giving me the creeps. Besides, these kids shouldn’t hear scary stories.”
“No, tell us more about the haunted island,” Jessica Mathew pleaded. “It’s awesome!”
“Kids are used to this stuff,” Mrs. Mathew explained to the laughing group. “TV, you know.”
“That’s about all there is to tell,” Steve said to the little girls. “But as I said earlier, you should all stay away from the island. Those hunters don’t care what they’re aiming at! In fact, occasionally you can hear gunshots from the island. Then you know there are hunters in the area.”
“Why doesn’t the local sheriff go in there and arrest them?” Nancy asked.
Steve shrugged. “He’s been called to the island several times,” he said. “But the poachers are always gone by the time he gets there.”
“Well, can we paddle close enough to the island to see the financier’s summer home?” Jeff asked. “Is it still standing?”
“Oh, Jeff, let’s stay away from there,” Cindy said with a shiver.
“The house is still there,” Steve said, “but all we’d see would be the roof. It’s back a ways from shore.” He paused a moment. “We’ll get a little closer, but not much. I wouldn’t want any stray bullets flying our way!”
Following Steve’s lead, the group paddled out toward the island. When they were about a quarter of a mile from the shoreline, Steve once again signaled for them to stop.
“Could a bullet shot from a rifle reach us?” Cindy asked her husband. Nancy could hear their conversation from her canoe, which George had pulled up beside Cindy and Jeff’s.
“I doubt it,” Jeff said. “But I don’t think Steve would let us get that close.”
Almost before the words were out of his mouth, a shot rang out from the island.
“Someone’s shooting at us!” screamed Cindy, frantically getting to her feet. “We have to get out of here!”
“Cindy, sit down!” Jeff cried as he reached out for her.
But Cindy, in her panic, dropped her paddle in the water. She bent over to try to retrieve it, and her sudden movement rocked the canoe on its side. She lost her balance, and in an instant, both she and her husband toppled into the water!
Cindy quickly rose to the surface. Her arms thrashed the water wildly. “I can’t swim!” she screamed.
Horsing Around
In a flash Nancy extended her oar to Cindy. “Grab on to this,” she called. “Your life jacket will keep you up.” Cindy threw herself at the oar. Her weight rocked Nancy’s canoe.
“Keep your weight low,” George cautioned. She leaned to the side to keep the canoe from tipping as Bess and Nancy helped Cindy into the canoe.
“Where’s Jeff?” called Nancy, once Cindy was seated next to Bess.
“Jeff!” Cindy shrieked.
“I’m here,” he panted, coming up on the side of his canoe. Luckily their boat had righted itself—after tossing out its passengers.
In the next moment, Steve paddled alongside the canoe. “Here, let me help you.” Steve leaned out of his canoe and put his weight on the bow while Jeff climbed in over the stern.
“Everything okay now?” Steve asked.
Jeff and Cindy nodded, but it was clear they both were shaken. Steve retrieved their floating paddles, Cindy rejoined her husband in their canoe, and soon the group was heading back to the resort.
“It’s a shame that some greedy poachers are preventing others from exploring the island,” Nancy said as she, Bess, and George were walking away from the boat house.
“Uh-oh, Nancy, I don’t like that look in your eye,” said Bess. “You always have that look when you’re about to do something dangerous.”
Nancy smiled. “No, I’m not planning anything right now,” she said. “Let’s sit tight for the time being and see what develops.”
The girls headed toward the lodge for a light lunch. While they were eating, Ann and Carrie walked into the dining room and over to the grand piano at the edge of the room.
They opened the piano bench, left several sheets of music, and turned to leave. Carrie saw Nancy and the girls at their table and waved. The girls waved back as Carrie and Ann approached the table.
“We’ve calmed down since we last saw you,” Ann said somewhat sheepishly, nodding at her sister. “No more screaming.”
Nancy had to smile.
“What have you been up to?” Ann asked.
“We took a canoe ride this morning,” Nancy told her.
“Oh, with Steve Matheson?” asked Carrie. Nancy nodded, and Carrie continued. “He’s adorable, don’t you think? I mean, he’s way too old for me, but I can still look, right?” She raced right on. “Oh, and speaking of cute, wait till you see Rodney Starr, the stable guy. He’s closer to my age, so I’m zeroing in on him this summer!”
“The stable guy?” Nancy asked.
“Yeah, he takes care of the horses,” Carrie replied.
“He may not be working here much longer, though,” Ann said.
“Why not?” Nancy inquired.
“He wants to make more money. He says the Steadmans don’t pay him enough,” Ann replied.
“Oh?” Nancy glanced at Bess and George and, with a flick of her eyebrow, let them know they should let the sisters do the talking.
“Yeah,” Carrie said. “They should pay us more, too.”
“Do the other staff members feel the same?” asked Nancy.
“Well, we’ll never get rich working here,” Ann said. “That’s for sure. Everyone complains. Especially Otis. You should hear him moan and groan about his salary.”
“He’s the cook, isn’t he?” Nancy recalled.
“The chef!” Carrie corrected Nancy. “If he heard you call him a mere cook, he’d have a fit.”
“Yes, Otis considers himself an artist,” added Ann.
“If you ask me, Otis is just a crabby old guy,” said Carrie. “He gets mad about everything. But especially his salary.”
“Who else doesn’t like the Steadmans?” Nancy asked casually. She hoped the Burkle sisters would suggest some possible suspects. “They seem like nice people to me.”
“Oh, they’re really not bad,” Ann said. “But, you know, people are funny sometimes. Speaking of funny, have you met that newlywed couple who is staying here?”
“Cindy and Jeff?” George said.
“Right,” said Ann. “What a pair of lovebirds! I love to watch them!”
“Yeah,” Carrie said, laughing. “What a hoot! They’re always holding hands and staring into each other’s eyes.”
“And you should check out that woman in cottage fourteen,” Ann said, flipping her long hair over her shoulder.
“Yeah, she’s so mysterious,” Carrie said.
“What’s mysterious about her?” Nancy asked.
“Nobody knows anything, about her,” Carrie said. “She’s here all by herself. Isn’t that strange?”
“It might be nice to be alone,” said Ann. “It sure sounds good to me.”
“Meaning what?” Carrie said, her hands on her hips.
“Just what I said,” Ann snapped, her voice growing louder. “I’d sure like—”
“Well, I think this place is great for a vacation,” Nancy cut in, hoping to stop the impending argument.
“Me, too,” George said. “Bess, are you finished with lunch? I want to sign up for the horseback ride.”
“Oh, we’re guiding this afternoon’s ride,” Carrie told them. “You’ll be with us!”
“Oh, great,” George said. “I forgot you two did that.”
“Yeah, and you can meet Rodney Starr,” Carrie said.
Nancy, Bess, and George excused themselves to go back to their cottage. “Did you get any clues from that talk with the Burkles?” Bess asked Nancy.
“I’m not sure,” Nancy confessed as they passed the back of the dining lodge. “I’d like to know more about Otis, though.”
George nudged Nancy and pointed to a large man with a full head of snow-white hair trudging up the back stairs leading to the kitchen. He wore a white apron and carried a covered tray. “Maybe that’s Otis,” she said.
“Let’s find out,” said Nancy, hurrying toward the man.
“What do you plan to say?” Bess asked, following her.
“I’ll say I’m a big fan of his cooking,” said Nancy, not slowing her pace. She bounded up the wooden steps and was about to pull open the screen door when something stopped her. It was the sound of a raised voice.
Signaling George and Bess to stay back, Nancy cautiously leaned toward the screen to observe the scene. The man they thought was Otis was angrily stomping back and forth as he ranted.
“I’ve got half a notion to put the Steadmans completely out of business,” he told a young man dressed in a white cook’s suit. “It wouldn’t be hard to do, you know! I could do it like that!”
He pounded a butcher block counter angrily with his fist. The young assistant hung back, looking nervous.
“They promised me a raise, and this is what they come up with?” the older man cried, waving an envelope.
“Should I start the clam chowder, Otis?” the young man asked timidly.
“It’s crab bisque tonight!” shouted Otis. “And do you mean to tell me you haven’t started it yet?”
As Otis continued his tirade, Nancy slipped away from the door and moved down the stairs.
“That was certainly an earful,” said Bess. “We could hear him down here at the bottom of the steps.”
“That guy has definitely made it onto my suspect list,” Nancy told her friends.
The girls returned to their cottage and changed into jeans and cotton blouses. The sun was high in the sky, and the day was warming up.
“A great day to ride,” George said as the girls walked down to the stables at the end of the road. Several teenagers, two girls and a boy, were waiting for the horse ride to begin, along with the Mathew family. The Burkle sisters were already there, leading horses out of the wooden stable. A young man with light blond hair and bright blue eyes seemed to be in charge of the horses. He was saddling the animals, selecting the right horse for the right rider.
“This is Rodney Starr,” Carrie said to the girls. “I told you about him, remember? He’s the horse expert around here.”
The girls nodded and said hello.
“Here’s a pony for you,” Rodney said to Heather Mathew. “I think we’ll put your sister on the same horse with your daddy.”
“Good idea,” said Mr. Mathew as Rodney led out a gentle gray mare.
The Burkles and Rodney helped the inexperienced riders mount their horses. Nancy noted that the sisters seemed to be very confident horsewomen.
“Inexperienced riders should be up front behind Carrie,” Ann instructed the group. “Experienced riders stay to the back of the line. I’ll take up the end.”
“I guess I’ll go up front,” said Bess, who hadn’t ridden much. Nancy and George had ridden many times, so they stayed back with Ann.
“Where did you two learn to ride?” Nancy asked Ann.
“We grew up on a horse ranch in Wyoming,” said Ann. “Riding is second nature to us.”
Nancy filed the information. Maybe there were other things she would discover about the sisters as time went on. She’d have to suspect everyone who worked at the resort until she learned more about all of its employees.
“Are you riding?” Nancy asked Rodney Starr, who walked down the line checking everyone’s saddle and stirrups for proper fit.
“No, ma’am, not today,” he replied. “I guide three days a week. The girls guide the other four. I have another job in town.”
“Okay, let’s move out,” Carrie called from the head of the line.
The group, in a single line, clopped along the trail leading away from the stable. Carrie led the riders out into an open meadow along a gently rolling hillside. The view was a spectacle of color: the heavily wooded, deep green shades of the hills and, behind them, a cloudless blue sky.
They crossed the meadow and came to the edge of a dense forest.
“Stay in a single line,” Carrie called back to the guests as her horse stepped into the woods.
“I think my horse likes me, Mom,” Heather Mathew said over her shoulder.
“These do seem like nice, gentle animals,” her mother answered.
The top branches of the trees filtered out much of the sun’s brightness, and the forest grew considerably darker as the riders headed into it.
“It’s kind of spooky in here,” Jessica said. She leaned back into her father, who was riding with her on the light gray horse.
“There’s nothing to be afraid of,” Mr. Mathew assured the little girl.
The riders followed a sharp curve in the path and entered a small clearing.
“What’s that?” Heather cried suddenly, pointing into the clearing.
The riders came to an abrupt halt, stunned by the sight before them.
There, hanging from a branch on the one tree in the middle of the clearing, was a figure dangling from a rope.
Ghost Stories
Carrie let out a scream that startled several birds in the surrounding trees. There was a rustling of leaves and the sound of wings flapping as the birds flew away.
“Someone hanged himself!” gasped Ann.
Jessica Mathew began to cry. “I want to go,” she whimpered, turning her head into her father’s chest.
Summoning up all her nerve, Nancy galloped out into the clearing. She had to see who was hanging from that branch. The body was turned away from her. She could see only its back. It appeared to be a man in tan slacks and a blue shirt.
As the body dangled lifelessly, a gentle breeze swung it around to face Nancy. Her heart leapt into her throat. Whom would she find at the end of that rope?
“Wait a minute,” Nancy murmured after taking a second look at the dangling figure. She was now close enough to realize what she was looking at. “It’s a dummy!” she said aloud.
It was a mannequin, the kind used in department stores. And there was a note taped to its forehead. Nancy rode up to the dummy and pulled down the paper.
“What does it say?” asked George, pulling her horse up alongside Nancy’s.
Nancy handed her the note. “ ‘Get away from the Steadman Resort,’ ” George read. “ ‘Your life is in danger.’ ”
“Some joke, huh?” Nancy said glumly.
“Whoever is responsible for this is starting to seem more and more twisted,” commented George, handing the note back to Nancy.
George leaned forward in her saddle and lifted the noose over the dummy’s neck. The mannequin fell to the ground with a thud. “Is it a clue?” she asked Nancy. “Should we take it back with us?”
Nancy studied the stiff figure on the ground. “Leave it,” she said. “I won’t forget what it looks like.” The two girls turned and rode back to the group.
“It’s only a prank,” Nancy told the anxious riders. “That’s just a dummy out there.”
“We saw you reading something,” said Mrs. Mathew.
Nancy hesitated, then decided she owed it to the other guests to tell them the truth. “It was a warning to leave the resort,” she admitted.
“That’s it!” said Mrs. Mathew. “It’s time to start packing.”
“I want to go home!” cried her youngest daughter, sensing the horror of the riders but not really understanding what was going on.
“Now, folks,” said Ann, trying in vain to use a soothing tone of voice, “I’m sure this is all harmless.”
“Well, it’s one too many of the silly pranks that have been going on around here,” said Mr. Mathew. “This one is in horribly bad taste.”
“I agree,” said one of the teenage girls, her face ashen.
“Ann and Carrie,” Nancy spoke up, “I think we should return to the stables now.”
“I think you’re right,” Ann said. “Come on, folks, turn your horses by pulling the reins to your right.”
The group turned and headed back to the stables. At a turn in the trail, Nancy caught sight of a woman who stood watching them from behind some trees. She was large-boned and athletic. Nancy guessed her age to be around thirty. Her hair was dark, shoulder length, and turned under at the ends. She seemed to study the riders as if memorizing each face.
When her gaze fixed on Nancy, Nancy stared straight back. A look of alarm passed over the woman’s face, and she turned abruptly and disappeared behind the stand of trees.
Who was she? Nancy wondered. Was it just a coincidence that she was watching the group of riders that had just found the dummy hanging in the woods?
Nancy beckoned to Bess and George after they had dismounted at the stables. She led them away to a spot out of earshot of the others.
“Did you see the woman watching us?” Nancy whispered urgently.
“I did,” George said. “Do you think she planted the dummy to scare us?”
“I don’t know,” said Nancy. “Let’s find her and see what she has to say. Come on!”
“I didn’t see her,” Bess said. “What did she look like?”
Nancy described the woman. “And she was wearing a pair of jeans and a light blue sleeveless blouse. Right, George?”
“Right,” George agreed. The girls took off on foot in the direction the woman had taken.
“She’s probably a guest,” Nancy said. “Otherwise she’d have been working—unless this is her day off.”
“Maybe she turned back to the lane toward the cottages,” George suggested.
“Let’s try it,” Nancy said.
The girls hurried around to the lane.
“There she is!” Nancy said in a low voice as she pointed to the woman, who was walking along the lane ahead of them at a quick pace. “Let’s hurry and catch up, but don’t run unless she takes off.”
The girls hurried to shorten the woman’s lead. When they were about a hundred feet from her, she turned and, seeing the girls behind her, quickly ducked in between two cottages.
“Let’s follow her,” Nancy said.
The girls rushed to the spot where the woman had stepped off the lane. She was not between the cottages.
“She must have come around the side to lose us,” Nancy said. “Let’s keep looking. George, you and Bess go around to the left. I’ll take the right.”
Nancy and the girls separated to search. Nancy slowed her pace—the woman surely was not far away. Nancy came around the front of a cottage that faced the lake. The woman was standing motionless among a group of pine trees that grew close to the water’s edge.
“Hi,” Nancy said, trying to sound casual.
The woman turned and looked at Nancy as if she’d never seen her before. “Hello,” she said, her face an unsmiling mask.
“Are you a guest here?” Nancy asked.
“Of course I’m a guest!” the woman said impatiently. “Aren’t we all guests here?”
“I mean you’re not staff,” Nancy said calmly.
The woman looked at her watch, turned abruptly, and headed away toward a group of cottages without saying another word.
Nancy stepped into the lane and watched her go. The woman stopped at the door of cottage fourteen, took out a key, and disappeared inside.
Just then Bess and George appeared. “We didn’t find her,” said George breathlessly. “You have any luck?”
“Not much,” Nancy said. “I talked to her, but she made it very plain that she had no interest in talking to me.”
“Is she a guest?” Bess asked.
“That much I did learn,” Nancy said. “She said she was a guest and went into cottage fourteen. She must be the mysterious woman the Burkle sisters told us about.”
“But what was she doing watching us come back from the horseback ride?” George wondered aloud.
“I don’t know,” said Nancy.
George looked around her. “I wonder where the division is between guest and staff cottages,” she said.
“It would have to be right after ours,” Nancy pointed out. “Remember, the Burkle sisters live in cottage eighteen, next to us.”
“Some of the staff must live in town,” George noted.
“Right,” Nancy said. “Rodney Starr said he had a job in town, so I’ll bet he lives around here all year.”
“Well, I don’t know about you two, but I’m up for a break in investigating and a dip in the pool,” George said. “How about it?”
“Just let me grab my tanning lotion,” Bess said.
“You two go ahead,” said Nancy. “I think I’ll have a little talk with Henry about his guest in cottage fourteen. No doubt he’s already heard about the dummy hanging in the woods. I want to see what he has to say about that, too.”
“Meet us at the pool when you’re done,” George said.
“Okay,” said Nancy. “I’ll be there in a half hour.”
Bess and George headed for the cottage, and Nancy turned back toward the lodge. She found Henry Steadman visiting with some guests in the lobby of the lodge. When he saw Nancy, he excused himself and approached her.
“Hello, Nancy,” he said. He leaned in toward Nancy and lowered his voice. “Did you hear about what happened along the riding trail this afternoon?”
“Yes,” Nancy said. “I was there.”
“Another family left because of that.”
“The Mathews, right?” Nancy said.
Henry nodded. “I don’t know what I’m going to do. That’s four groups of guests we’ve lost in the last three weeks! And everyone else seems nervous. I’ve had at least a dozen people approach me to ask what in blazes is going on here.”
“Henry,” Nancy said, “there was a woman near the stables. She’s a guest in cottage number fourteen. Do you know her?”
“Teresa Diamond,” Henry said. “She arrived three days ago, and she’s staying for ten days.”
“Do you know anything more about her?”
“Nope, just her name and home address,” replied Henry.
“Where does she live?” Nancy asked.
Henry consulted the guest register at the front desk. “Says here, New York City,” he told Nancy.
“I wonder what she does for a living,” Nancy said.
“I don’t know that.”
“Do many people come here by themselves?” Nancy asked.
“I’d say that in an average summer we might get two or three people who are here by themselves.” Henry ran his large hand over his balding head and sighed with frustration. “Nancy, have you picked up any information at all about who might be causing the trouble?”
Nancy paused. She decided that it was too early to suggest suspects. There was too much she still didn’t know. “We’ve been looking into several possibilities,” she said, “but we haven’t come to any conclusions.”
“I’m sure you need more time,” said Henry. “After all, you only arrived yesterday.”
“Yes,” Nancy said. “But try not to worry, Henry. We’ll find out who’s responsible for all of these weird happenings.”
“I sure hope so, Nancy,” he said, gazing off into the distance. “I sure hope so.”
***
“Look who we bumped into!” Bess said. She was lounging beside the pool, her face, arms, and legs slathered with oil. Steve Matheson sat next to her wearing his sunglasses, a pair of jeans, and a muscle T-shirt.
“Hi, Nancy,” Steve greeted her with a friendly smile. “Ready for a swim?”
“I sure am,” she said, tossing her towel into an empty chair next to Bess. She had stopped at the cottage and changed into her swimsuit. “You taking some time off?”
He grinned. “Well, technically I’m on duty. One of my most important jobs is to see that the guests are having a good time. So I come up here occasionally to do just that.”
“Well, we’re having a great time!” Bess assured him. “Oh, the sun feels so good today!” She settled back in the lounger and closed her eyes.
George swam to the side of the pool and rested her arms along the edge. “Jump in, Nancy,” she said. “The water feels great!”
“In a few minutes,” Nancy said. She turned to Steve. “Did you hear that another family checked out early this afternoon?”
Steve frowned. “Yeah, Henry told me. I guess that hanging dummy really scared the little kids.”
“But it’s not just that,” Nancy said. “There’ve been a lot of stran