Nobody's Business (3 page)

“Why did Julie break up with him?” Bess asked. “He seems like a nice guy.”

Ned plucked a tortilla chip from a bowl on the table and dipped it in salsa. “She got tired of waiting for Andrew to make up his mind,” he explained. “See, Mr. Lockwood doesn't just own the inn. He owns a lot of real estate around here, and he wants to bring Andrew into the business now that he's out of college.”

“I get it,” Nancy put in. “This renovation project is like a trial run.”

“Exactly,” Ned told her. “The thing is, Andrew really wanted to be an actor. He planned to marry Julie and move with her to Los Angeles. He was going to start auditioning and taking acting classes. Julie's a sculptor, and she was applying to art school there.”

“Sounds romantic,” Bess said, her blue eyes shining. “Did Julie go to Emerson, too?”

Ned shook his head. “Actually, Andrew's four years older than Julie—she's nineteen. They met doing community theater in Melborne. That's where they're both from. It's about ten minutes from here. Andrew was acting, and Julie was painting sets. It was love at first sight.”

“If they were so in love, then what was the problem?” she asked Ned.

“Andrew was really torn between Julie and his father, and he kept putting off moving. I think he's really afraid to disobey his father. Mr. Lockwood's a real dragon. Finally Julie just ran out of patience. She decided she'd rather break up with Andrew than wait any longer.”

“I feel sorry for Andrew and Julie,” Bess said, sighing.

“It
is
too bad,” Nancy agreed, “but it could explain what's going on at the inn. Julie might still be so resentful that she's causing trouble just to get back at Andrew and his father.”

“It's possible,” Ned said. “So that's the story, Bess. I hope you're not too disappointed.”

“I'll get over it,” Bess said cheerfully. “Besides, I happened to notice that Master Blaster's really cute, too.”

A waitress came to take their order, and soon the table was filled with steaming, cheesy enchiladas, crisp tacos, and rice and beans.

As they ate, Nancy kept thinking about Andrew's predicament. “No wonder Andrew kept
mentioning how angry his father's going to be,” she said aloud, nibbling on her taco. “It sounds as though Mr. Lockwood will have a fit if the inn isn't a success.”

“You said it,” Ned agreed. “Andrew's petrified. He's almost used up all the money his father gave him for the renovation, and there's still a ton of work to be done. Plasterboard, floors, fixtures. If anything else goes wrong, he'll be a nervous wreck.”

“Maybe we can help,” Nancy offered. “I mean, if we can figure out who's behind the pranks, that will be one less thing for him to worry about.”

Ned was about to object, but then he leaned over to kiss Nancy on the cheek. “So much for taking a break from detecting,” he joked. “I bet Andrew
would
appreciate your help.”

Tapping the table with her fingernail, Nancy said, “Too bad we can't go back for another look right now. It'd be easier to check out the place without everyone else there, but it's probably locked, right?”

Ned pulled a key from his pocket. “Not to me,” he announced. “Andrew gave me this. It's for the back door, so I can get in when he's not there.”

After dinner Nancy, Ned, and Bess drove back to the inn and let themselves in the back door. It was the same one Julie had escaped through, Nancy realized. The long hallway was even darker
than it had been earlier, and Nancy couldn't find a light switch. She fumbled in her purse for her penlight but couldn't find it.

“Uh-oh,” Bess said as the three of them felt their way down the pitch-black corridor. “This place is even creepier at night than in the daytime.”

At last they reached the door to the ballroom. After quietly opening it, they stepped into the cavernous room, which was already glowing from the shafts of moonlight slanting in through the windows. The dark shadows of sawhorses and ladders made irregular shapes on the floor.

“Aha! Here it is,” Nancy crowed, finally finding her penlight in her purse. Flicking it on, she said, “Let's start at the front entrance.”

Shining the small, powerful beam, she led the way out of the ballroom and down the main hall. As they stepped into the lobby, she shone her penlight over the sawdust-covered floor, then raised it higher.

Nancy tensed as her beam barely caught a strange swinging movement over their heads.

“What's that?” Bess asked nervously as a faint, creaking noise sounded.

Nancy swept the beam of light toward the ceiling—and her mouth fell open in silent horror.

Hanging from the rafters in a noose was a limp, lifeless body!

B
ESS GAVE A
piercing scream. “He's dead!”

Nancy felt stiff with fear, but she forced herself to shine the penlight over the hanging form, from the bottom up.

The person wore no shoes, just white sweat socks and a pair of old, baggy jeans tied tightly around the waist with a rope. Aiming the beam higher, Nancy saw that the torso was covered by a plain gray sweatshirt tucked into the jeans.

Taking a deep breath, she aimed the light at the person's face.

“It's a dummy!” Ned exclaimed as the penlight illuminated a cloth bag filled with soft stuffing.

Nancy felt her whole body slump with relief. “Somebody find a light switch,” she said.

A few seconds later some bare bulbs in an overhead fixture went on, casting eerie shadows against the walls. Ned stood by a light switch at the foot of one of the sweeping staircases. Near him Bess was leaning against a ladder, staring in horror at the life-size hanging dummy.

“That beam's too high for someone to reach without a ladder,” Nancy pointed out. “Bess, don't move or touch the ladder with your hands. I want to check for fingerprints.”

Bess carefully lifted her elbow off the ladder, and Nancy took a closer look. “Hmm, it looks like someone wiped it clean,” Nancy said. “There's not a speck on it, but everything else is covered with sawdust.”

She cast her eyes downward. “All these footprints are too scuffed to see clearly,” she added, frowning. “Whoever hung the dummy went to extra trouble not to leave fingerprints or footprints.”

“I don't get it,” Ned commented, coming over to the ladder. “If there is a practical joker working here, why would they do something like this? It's not funny at all.”

Nancy thought for a moment. “I don't think the person is trying to be funny,” she said. “I think they're trying to scare us, or Andrew, or someone else.”

“But why?” Bess wondered aloud. “What could they possibly gain by it?”

“Good question,” Nancy said. “Let's search the rest of the inn to see if we can figure out an answer.”

“What are we looking for?” Bess asked.

“Just keep an eye out for any tools or anything that looks strange,” Nancy told her. “But first let's cut this thing down so it won't scare anybody else.”

After the dummy had been laid to rest on the dusty floor, Nancy, Ned, and Bess examined the front and back doors. “No sign of forced entry,” Nancy observed. “The intruder had to have a key.”

Next the three teens searched the downstairs rooms, offices, and hallways. They didn't see anything unusual, or find any of the missing tools, but it was hard to see much in the dim light of the few work lights. A search of the upstairs bedrooms proved equally fruitless.

“The only place we haven't checked is the basement,” Nancy said when they returned to the lobby.

“I think it's still locked,” Ned told her, “and Andrew has the only key. He doesn't want anyone going down there unsupervised because the stairs are rickety and it's too filled with junk to walk around in.”

“Let's try it, anyway,” Nancy suggested. “I want to be sure.”

Pulling back one of the white drop cloths
hanging beneath the left staircase, Ned revealed a solid oak door with a rusted knob. He turned the knob and pulled, but it wouldn't budge.

“Oh, well,” Nancy said. “We can check again tomorrow, as soon as it's light.”

“Good idea,” Bess agreed. “Now let's get out of this spooky place before we run into Rosalie Murray's ghost!”

• • •

“And that's when we found this,” Nancy told Andrew early the next morning, holding up the dummy in the noose to show him. She, Ned, and Bess had arrived before eight so they could talk to Andrew before the Teen Works crew arrived.

“It was hanging from the rafter up there,” Ned added, pointing.

“We thought it was a person,” Bess said, putting her hands in the pockets of her pastel pink overalls, which she wore over a matching long-sleeved T-shirt.

Andrew tucked the dummy under his arm and looked anxiously around the empty lobby. “Please don't mention this to anyone else,” he said. “If word of this gets out, my work crew might panic, and I can't afford any more delays. I'm going to throw this thing out before anybody sees it.”

Nancy followed as Andrew walked to the front door, flung it open, and went outside. The day was so cloudy and overcast that everything seemed to melt into a monotonous dark gray.

“Do you have any idea who might have put the dummy there?” Nancy asked.

Andrew shrugged, then tossed the dummy into a large green Dumpster just outside the entrance. He covered the dummy with some large plastic garbage bags that had been lying on top of the other debris.

“Andrew,” Nancy said gently, “I know about Julie. If you think she's out to get you, I wish you'd tell me. The only way I can help you is if you're honest with me.”

“It's not Julie,” Andrew said, staring at the trees beyond the inn. “I know her. She'd never do something like this.”

Nancy couldn't tell if Andrew really believed what he was saying or if he was covering up for Julie. Maybe he still loved her and didn't want her to get in trouble. After all, Andrew hadn't been the one who wanted to break off their engagement.

“Look,” he said, turning to face Nancy. His hazel eyes were troubled behind his wire-rimmed glasses. “I appreciate the fact that you're looking into these pranks for me. But lay off Julie, okay?”

“I know you still care about her,” Nancy sympathized, “but I can't ignore the facts. Julie was in the inn yesterday, and she ran away from me right after the wailing music was played.”

Honk! Honk!

Nancy turned toward the parking lot and saw a
small caravan of cars pull in, followed by the red Teen Works bus.

Andrew put on a cheerful smile and waved at the teenagers who were piling out of the bus. “Let's just try to forget about all this stuff, okay?” he said to Nancy. “We've got a lot of work to do.”

“Hi, Andrew!” Colleen called, stepping out of the bus in a full-length sheepskin coat and striding up the path in brown lizard-skin cowboy boots similar to the black ones she'd worn the day before.

“What's on the agenda for today?” Colleen asked as several of the teenagers gathered around her. Most of them wore jeans, sweatshirts, and sneakers.

“Don't tell me,” said Natalia Diaz. “We have to climb on more ladders and do more wiring.”

A tall, skinny guy with cornrow braids turned to Andrew. “I guess Natalia never told you that she's afraid of heights.”

“Ivan!” Natalia laughed, giving him a playful poke in the ribs.

“We'll be finishing up the wiring today,” Andrew said without laughing. “Also, cutting and threading pipes for the bathrooms and the kitchen. Electrical people, talk to Eddie Garcia in the ballroom. Plumbing people, work with Dan Nichols in the dining room. Colleen, Ned, Bess, and Nancy, I'd like to show you guys the basement.”

As everyone headed into the lobby, Colleen
remarked, “I thought we'd never see the mysterious basement. Did you finally get a hauler to come pick up all the junk down there, Andrew?”

“Yes, believe it or not,” Andrew told her, rolling his eyes. “He'll be here the day after tomorrow, so I want to get everything out and ready for him before then. Anyway, Dan Nichols, our foreman, wants to pour a cement floor Friday, so the area has to be clear.”

“Sounds like a tall order. It's already Tuesday,” Colleen said as Andrew pulled aside the drop cloth covering the basement door. “We might have to pull some of the kids from their other jobs.”

“I hope not,” Andrew told her, frowning. “This job's going too slowly as it is.” He reached for the key ring that was attached by a metal chain to one of his belt loops and sifted through until he found the key he wanted. Then he unlocked the basement door and pushed it open. A musty, burnt smell wafted upstairs, mixing in with the smell of sawdust.

“Smells like no one's been down there in a long time,” Nancy said.