Nobody's Business (5 page)

“Nancy, look!” Bess shouted gleefully from behind a sawhorse. Nancy saw that a tall, balding middle-aged man in overalls was standing behind Bess. “This is Dan Nichols, the construction
foreman,” Bess went on. “He's showing me how to use a power saw.”

“Not bad,” Nancy said, grinning as Bess sliced neatly through a pipe.

“Good job,” Dan complimented her, then moved on to the group at another sawhorse. When he was out of earshot, Nancy gestured to Bess to turn off the saw.

“Do you think you can handle two jobs at once?” she asked Bess in a low voice. “While you're working, keep an eye on Blaster.”

Bess's blue eyes lit up as she said, “You think
he's
the troublemaker?”

“I don't know yet,” Nancy said truthfully. “But I think we should watch him. He's probably in the ballroom with the electrical people.”

Bess nodded solemnly, but there was a sparkle in her eye. “Then I won't let him out of my sight for a minute.”

“I knew I could count on you,” Nancy said dryly. “Meanwhile, I'm going to pay Julie Ross a visit.”

After grabbing her down jacket from the metal rack in the lobby, Nancy left the inn by the back hallway door. She wanted to cut through the woods Julie had run through the day before to see how far away her store was from the inn.

The day was still dark and overcast, and Nancy had trouble finding her way through the trees. Still, she made a rough guess as to which direction
Julie had gone, and soon she could see the cluster of stone buildings that made up the tiny town of Moon Lake.

Within minutes she was standing in front of A Show of Hands, the boutique where Ned had said Julie worked. A bell tinkled as Nancy pushed open the door and went inside. The walls of the store were lined with ceramic bowls, beaded earrings, clay sculptures of birds in flight, and other handmade objects.

In the back a slender girl sat in a separate work area, behind a half-formed piece of wet clay on a clay-spattered table. She wore a white smock over blue jeans, and her hands were covered with the reddish brown clay. As soon as Nancy saw the copper streak in the girl's dark curls, she knew this was the same girl she'd seen the day before.

“May I help you?” the girl asked. Her face, though attractive, looked tired, and there were dark circles under her eyes.

“Just looking,” Nancy said lightly. She didn't want to give away her purpose for being at the shop right away. If Julie knew that Nancy was the girl who'd chased her through the woods, she would probably clam up.

“I'm Julie,” the girl said with a smile. “If there's anything I can do, just ask.”

“Thanks,” Nancy said, approaching Julie. “Did you do these bird sculptures?” When Julie nodded, Nancy said sincerely, “They're beautiful.
It's hard to believe you can find such high-quality work in an out-of-the-way place like this.”

“Tell me about it,” Julie said, skillfully shaping the wing of a bird with a flat wooden stick. “I'm from Melborne, but that's almost as small as Moon Lake. Stick the two together, and you'd still need a magnifying glass to find them on a map.”

Nancy laughed. “Well, I guess you can leave any time you want, right? Not that you'd want to, of course. It's so peaceful here.”

“Peaceful and
boring
,” Julie put in. “As soon as I get into art school, I'm out of here.”

“So there's nothing keeping you here, then?” Nancy asked.

Julie focused on her sculpture for a moment, then looked at Nancy with clear gray eyes. “I try not to get tied down to anybody or anything,” she said lightly. “Life's easier that way.”

“Uh-huh . . .” Nancy pretended to look at a copper candlestick, but she was actually studying Julie out of the corner of her eye. Julie was doing a good job of covering up her hurt feelings. Then again, she didn't know Nancy, so there was no reason for her to reveal anything personal.

“What brings you to Moon Lake?” Julie asked. “It's not exactly the peak of the summer season.”

“I'm, uh, helping out at the inn,” Nancy said vaguely. “There's a renovation going on.”

Instantly Julie's eyes grew hard. “I know all about it,” she snapped. “Boy, I just can't stand hearing about that old place.”

“Why not?” Nancy inquired.

Julie stabbed the clay bird with her wooden stick. “Let's put it this way,” she said in an ice-cold voice. “I hope that old dump burns to the ground!”

J
ULIE'S GRAY EYES
flashed angrily for a moment. Then, as if she were embarrassed at her outburst, she stared down at her sculpture.

“What do you have against the inn?” Nancy asked.

Julie opened her mouth to answer, but she was interrupted by the tinkling of the bell at the door.

An older woman with fluffy white hair entered and asked, “I'm looking for a rag doll for my granddaughter. Could you show me what you have?”

“I've got to help this customer,” Julie told Nancy in a quiet voice. She disappeared through a door in the back, then reemerged a minute later
with clean hands and went over to the older woman.

Nancy waited to question Julie, but after the older woman left, a young couple came in. Then a plump middle-aged woman emerged from the back of the store, holding out a cardboard box.

“Julie! Beverly Brandt's order finally came in,” the plump woman said. “I want you to deliver it for me.”

There was no point in sticking around, Nancy realized. She would have to come back later to question Julie further. Nancy decided to take the road this time, but the walk back to the inn still took only a few minutes. There was no question Julie could come and go quickly.

As Nancy headed up the curved driveway, she saw that a long black limousine with tinted windows was parked right in front of the entrance. The license plate read LOCKWD-1. This had to be Andrew's father's car.

The second Nancy entered the inn, she heard a loud, harsh voice fill the lobby.

“You're a disgrace!” the man's voice yelled. “I trusted you with this job, and what do I find when I get here? Utter chaos!”

“We've had some problems. . . .” Andrew's voice was barely audible.

“Don't give me excuses!” the man yelled. “Give me solutions! If you weren't my son, I'd fire you!”

Nancy wished she weren't overhearing the
conversation. As she quickly crossed the lobby, she glanced into Andrew's office and saw a tall, robust man with steel gray hair slicked straight back. He had a strong profile and was dressed in an expensive-looking charcoal gray suit.

“What's that?” Andrew's father demanded as Andrew mumbled something under his breath.

“Nothing,” Andrew said.

Not wanting to embarrass Andrew, Nancy stepped quietly over to the hallway that led to the dining room and ballroom. Behind her she could still hear Mr. Lockwood's angry voice.

“Don't think you're getting out of this,” he thundered. “I gave you this job to teach you responsibility. How can I trust you with the rest of my properties if you can't get this right?”

“Maybe if I had a little more money . . .”

“Oh, no,” Mr. Lockwood said. “You got yourself into this mess. You'll have to figure a way out on your own.”

Shaking her head, Nancy hurried away from the voices. Now that she had seen Mr. Lockwood in action, she understood why Andrew was so scared of him. Anyone would be. She couldn't help feeling sorry for Andrew.

Ahead of Nancy loud rock music was once again blaring from the ballroom. When she got there, she saw that Bess had kept her promise. She wasn't just keeping an eye on Blaster, she was dancing with him!

Blaster was holding Bess's hands and demonstrating
some complicated moves while Bess tried to follow. Bess glowed as she gazed at Blaster, while Natalia and several other teens stood nearby, shouting encouragement.

Uh-oh, Nancy thought to herself. Bess wasn't going to be a very objective observer of the deejay. And if he was the person behind all the trouble, Bess might even be in danger.

“Hey!” Andrew shouted, appearing behind Nancy in the door to the ballroom. Apparently, his father had left. “What do you think you're doing?”

Bess guiltily dropped Blaster's hands, and the deejay said, “We're just taking a little break.”

“Looks like you're goofing off to me,” Andrew said. “Aren't you supposed to be helping Eddie?”

“You got that right!” called a voice from up in the balcony. “Get up here, Blaster. I need you to help me test the master light switch.”

Nancy looked up and saw a wiry man in coveralls with straight black hair. Ned was also up in the balcony, removing the rickety-looking guardrail. “Don't get too close to the edge, Eddie,” Ned warned. “I haven't put up the new railing yet.”

“I'll come help you with that, Ned,” Andrew said. He followed Blaster toward the door in the wall that led to the back hall and balcony stairs.

Taking Bess aside, Nancy said in a low voice, “Bess, I need to talk to you about Blaster. I know he's cute—”

“Adorable,” Bess cut in, grinning.

“But he may also be very dangerous,” Nancy went on.

Bess's eyes turned serious. “I hear what you're saying, Nancy, but I honestly don't think Blaster's guilty. I can feel it.”

“I'm not putting down your instincts,” Nancy said. “I'm just saying we don't have enough information about him yet to come to any conclusions. So be careful around him, okay?”

Bess didn't look convinced, but she nodded.

“Good,” Nancy said. “Now, let's go to the basement. I want to check out the stuff the homeless person left behind.”

When they got to the bottom of the stairs, Nancy was amazed at how much cleaner the basement looked than it had earlier. Several wide, clean paths had been cleared through the burnt, broken furniture. Colleen Morgan knelt on the bare earth floor, stacking old newspapers in a cardboard box.

“Are you working here all by yourself?” Nancy asked as she and Bess went over to Colleen.

Colleen looked up and brushed a strand of red hair out of her eyes. “Hmm?” she said distractedly. “Oh, no, not really. I've got some of the kids helping me, but I sent them upstairs for a break. They've been hauling all morning.”

“But you're still working,” Nancy observed. “That's real dedication.”

Colleen barely looked up as she kept going
through the yellowing stacks of newspapers. “I'm just happy to help out.”

“Wouldn't you rather be doing something more glamorous than cleaning out a dirty basement?” Bess asked. “I know I would if I were you.”

Looking up with a smile, Colleen said, “Believe me, there's nowhere I'd rather be than right here. I've had it easy all my life. Nannies, private school, summers in Europe. Not that I'm complaining, but I
like
working with Teen Works. It feels good to know I'm making a serious contribution to these kids.”

The heavy cardboard box was now full of newspapers, and Colleen lifted it, starting for the stairs.

“Let me help you with that,” Nancy offered.

“No, thanks,” Colleen said brightly, shifting the box in her arms. “I can handle it.”

“Well, at least let us help you clean up the basement,” Bess said.

“Don't worry about it,” Colleen said over her shoulder. “The kids and I will take care of everything.”

Bess stared up the stairs at Colleen's retreating cowboy boots. “Wow. I hope I'm as selfless as she is when I'm a fabulously wealthy socialite someday.”

Laughing, Nancy walked down a cleared path toward the spot where she'd found the makeshift room that morning. As she neared the stone wall,
she recognized the transom window and the mattress, but all else had been cleared away.

“Oh, no!” Nancy cried, rushing forward. “What happened to my evidence?”

“It was just a bunch of hamburger wrappers,” Bess consoled her. “I doubt you could have learned anything from it.”

Nancy wanted to kick herself for not thinking to ask Andrew to leave this area alone until she'd examined it.

“Maybe the homeless person's stuff is still here somewhere,” Bess said, coming over to join Nancy. “The basement's still pretty messy.”

“That's true,” Nancy said, brightening. She knelt by the mattress and lifted it up so she could look under it. The only thing she saw was hard-packed earth and a crumpled piece of fabric. Kicking the fabric out with her toe, Nancy let the mattress drop. Then she picked up the moldy-smelling fabric and tried to smooth it out on the ground. It was a T-shirt, filthy and wrinkled, with a few faded words on the front.

“ ‘Bentley High Boneheads, Class of Seventy-seven,' ” Bess read, kneeling next to Nancy. There was also a picture of a skull wearing a mortarboard.