The Secret at Solaire (11 page)

After they'd walked another ten minutes, Alain pointed to a small, dark house at the crest of a hill.

“I don't see the van,” Nancy said doubtfully.

“Hank may not be here,” Alain replied. “That doesn't mean it's not worth checking the cabin for Kim.”

“Let's go,” George said immediately.

Alain put a finger to his lips and shut off his flashlight. “We're going to have to work by moonlight from now on.”

The three carefully approached the house. Then Alain signaled the girls to wait while he circled around it.

“I don't think anyone's in there,” he reported when he came back. “At least, not anyone who's awake.”

“I'll try the front door, if you'll try the back,” Nancy offered.

Alain nodded, and Nancy and George walked up to the front entrance, wondering if anyone was inside. The place seemed completely deserted. Nancy knocked on the door. No answer. She pushed at the door and nearly fell forward when it opened.

“I guess if you live this far out in the boonies, you don't worry about locking up,” George said.

To Nancy, that was a bad sign. Surely, if Kim were being hidden there, the door would be locked.

Using their flashlights, Nancy and George began to walk through the small house. The inside was furnished with a kitchen table and
two chairs, a ratty couch, and a TV. A tiny bedroom held a narrow twin bed. In the bathroom, Nancy saw a tube of toothpaste, a toothbrush, and a single bottle of shampoo. She looked around for mail or something that might have the owner's name and address. There was nothing. And there was definitely no sign of Kim.

“Nancy,” George whispered, “where do you think this door leads?”

“Good question,” Nancy said. She shone her flashlight along the length of the door. About two feet above the doorknob was a latch secured with a padlock. Nancy frowned. “I wonder why there's a lock on it.”

Nancy examined the padlock, then reached into the pocket of her jeans for the narrow pick she usually carried. It didn't work on all locks, but it was worth trying on this one.

Nancy held her breath as she inserted the pick in the base of the padlock and wiggled it. She felt a familiar sense of excitement as the lock suddenly popped open. Carefully, she lifted it from the latch and led the way downstairs.

The basement was even darker than the upstairs had been. The hairs on the back of Nancy's neck rose as she heard the steady, unmistakable sound of breathing. She turned to George behind her, but the sound wasn't
coming from her friend. And since they'd entered the house, neither of them had seen Alain.

They were in the pitch-black basement of a house that was miles from nowhere.
And someone else was in there with them!

“Nan?” George's voice was a tense whisper. “Do you hear that?”

Nancy nodded, not trusting herself to move. If she turned on her flashlight, which was what she was tempted to do, she'd know who else was in the dark basement. She might also be turning herself and George into illuminated targets.

The breathing continued, steady, rhythmical, and deep. It occurred to Nancy that whoever was in the basement with them was asleep.

She was about to turn on her flashlight when she heard someone walking above them.

“That better be Alain,” George said in a low voice.

“It is,” Alain said as he opened the door to
the basement and joined them on the stairs. “Why are you two standing here?”

“Shhh,” Nancy said, turning on her flashlight and slowly descending the stairs. The beam of her light roamed over piles of cardboard boxes, a hard-backed chair, a small table with an empty plate and mug on it, and a narrow cot. Kim Foster was sleeping on the cot, her wrists and ankles tied with bandannas.

“Kim!” Nancy was beside her at once, shaking her gently. “Kim, wake up. We've come to get you out of here.”

Kim opened her eyes drowsily. “Who—? What?” she said.

“It's Nancy Drew, from Solaire, with George and Alain,” Nancy said quickly. “Let me see your wrists. George, could you hold the light while I unknot this thing?”

Kim sat silently as Nancy worked on her bonds. Kim was definitely paler and thinner than she'd been when they'd seen her last. Within seconds, Nancy had freed her wrists and ankles.

“Are you all right?” Alain asked, sitting beside her.

“I think so,” Kim said in a shaky voice. “I haven't been hurt, just kept tied up in the dark. He's only let me walk to the bathroom. I feel a little weak.”

“He?” Nancy asked. “You mean Hank Meader?”

Kim rubbed at her ankles and rose to her feet unsteadily. “It was Hank, all right,” she said, her voice bitter. “I'll explain everything, I promise. But right now, could we please get out of here? I can't spend another minute in this awful basement.”

“Of course,” Alain said. “Let me help you.”

But they were too late. As the four of them started toward the stairs, the door to the basement slammed shut. Nancy felt a band of fear tighten around her chest. Someone was locking the padlock!

George raced to the top of the stairs. “Let us out!” she screamed, pounding against the door. “Let us out
now!”

Alain went to George's side. “That won't do any good,” he told her gently. “Don't waste your energy.”

Beside Nancy, Kim collapsed to the floor. She drew her knees up to her chest and hid her head in her arms. She was crying softly.

“Kim.” Nancy knelt beside her, trying to comfort her.

“We're never going to get out of here,” Kim sobbed. “We had our chance and we lost it. Now I'll never be free. I'm never going to see the sun or the sky—”

“Of course you will,” Nancy said with more confidence than she felt. “We're all going to come through this just fine. There are four of us
and only one Hank Meader. We'll figure something out.”

“Like what?” George asked.

“I don't know,” Nancy admitted. “Let's just try to calm down for a bit.”

“The first thing we should do is see if there's any other way out of this basement,” Alain said. “If you'll let me borrow your flashlight, Nancy, I'll see what I can find.”

Nancy handed him the light, and Alain began to explore the cellar.

“So,” Nancy said, wanting to keep Kim distracted, “what exactly did happen that day at the falls?”

“Hank followed us down there,” Kim replied. “He'd been sabotaging the spa. The day before you arrived, I'd caught him deliberately tampering with the heat controls on the Jacuzzi. That's what I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Why didn't you tell the Roziers?” George asked.

Kim sighed. “Because before then, I'd always liked Hank. We were friends. I didn't want him to be fired. But there'd been other strange things going on at the spa, and when I caught Hank at the Jacuzzi I realized he'd probably been responsible for all of them. I told him I wouldn't say anything to the Roziers if he'd just stop what he was doing.”

“And he didn't believe you?” George asked grimly.

Kim shrugged and rubbed her eyes. “I guess he couldn't afford to take the chance that I'd change my mind. Since the Roziers had already tightened security measures, he was afraid to go after me while we were on the spa grounds. So he followed us to Tanque Verde Falls. He grabbed me when I crossed the creek, right before the flood hit.”

Kim gave a little shiver and went on. “In a weird way, Hank saved my life. If he hadn't kidnapped me then, I probably would have been swept downstream by the floodwaters.”

“Do you know why Hank was sabotaging Solaire in the first place?” Nancy asked.

“I think I have a good idea,” Kim replied. “When Hank first locked me down here, I wasn't tied up, so I poked around a bit.” She nodded to the boxes stacked against the wall. “In the bottom one, there's an old newspaper clipping about a court case. There's also a bunch of legal papers between Henry and Heather Sinclair and Jeunesse, a French cosmetics company. Half of them are in French, so I didn't get the whole story, but—”

“Henry Sinclair is Hank Meader's real name,” Alain spoke up from the other side of the basement. “And Jeunesse was Laurent Rozier's first cosmetics company. Hank has
been trying to pay him back for his daughter Heather's blindness ever since.”

“I thought you were working
for
the Roziers,” Nancy said, surprised.

“I am,” Alain replied. “But while I was snooping around at the spa, I uncovered very unpleasant things in Laurent's past. There are still people suffering because Laurent Rozier cut costs by lying about the safety tests he claimed his cosmetics had undergone.”

“Do you have proof of Laurent's connection to Jeunesse?” George asked.

“Unfortunately, no.” Alain emerged from the other side of the basement, brushing off his hands. “Bad news,” he said. “There are no windows, and no other doors. Just dirt walls. The only way out of this basement is up those stairs.”

“Can we break down the door?” Kim asked anxiously.

“With what?” Alain asked.

“Maybe if we all pushed against it . . . ” George suggested. “Sort of like a human battering ram.”

“Unless someone has a better idea, I think it's worth a try,” Nancy said. “It beats just sitting here, feeling helpless.”

“Count me in,” Kim said.

The four of them lined up on the stairway behind Alain. “All right,” he said. “On the count of three, push. One, two, three . . . ”

Everyone pushed as hard as he or she could, but the door didn't budge.

“Hank!” Alain called out. “Kidnapping Kim was bad enough. Holding four of us captive is the sort of stunt that will land you a long term in prison. Come on, open the door, before you make things worse for yourself.”

But it wasn't Hank who answered. On the other side of the door, a woman's high-pitched voice dissolved into hysterical laughter. “So how do
you
like being in darkness?” she asked. “Do you enjoy being unable to see?”

Chills raced through Nancy as she realized who was speaking. “It's Heather,” she told the others in a low voice. “Heather Sinclair.”

“Very good,” crooned the voice on the other side of the door. “You win a prize for correctly identifying me. Do you want to know what that prize is?”

“I'm not sure we do,” George muttered.

“Heather, listen to me,” Nancy urged. “We know Laurent Rozier is responsible for your blindness. We're going to see that he's brought to justice. But you've got to let us out for us to do that.”

Heather began laughing again. “That's very funny. But I've already heard that one. My father lost his ranch paying lawyers who promised the same thing. Now it's time for someone else to pay. Unfortunately, it's going to be the four of you.

“I'll tell you what I've done,” Heather went on. “I've put an old sofa in front of the basement door. If any of you touch the door again, I swear I'll set the whole place on fire.”

“Heather, please—” Alain began.

But on the other side of the door, they heard Hank's daughter laugh an evil laugh as she struck the first match.

“She means it,” Nancy said quickly. “We'd better go back downstairs.”

“All right, Heather,” Alain called. “We're going downstairs. You can blow out the match now.”

They heard the sound of the match being extinguished. “Don't get any cute ideas,” Heather warned. “I'll be sitting right on this couch, listening for your every footstep.”

“How comforting,” George said, as she started down the stairs.

“Get used to the dark,” Heather called after them in a sugary voice. “You'll all be in it for a very long time.”

Nancy, George, Kim, and Alain settled themselves in the basement. Nancy and Kim sat on the cot, George sat on the chair, and Alain paced the floor.

“We need a plan,” Nancy said.

Alain threw up his hands. “I can't believe I let us get trapped like this. I should have known better!”

“Thinking like that won't do us any good,” Kim said.

“She's right,” George agreed.

Nancy's eye was caught by something in the shadows. “What's that in the corner?” she asked in a low voice. She walked over and turned on her flashlight. The beam was growing dim. I should have changed these batteries, she thought regretfully. Here they were, locked in a dark basement, and she had a flashlight that barely worked. Still, she managed to make out what looked like a couple of sticks covered with cobwebs.

Nancy brushed away the sticky webs and pulled at the first object. “I can't believe it,” she said softly. “A hammer!” She pulled out the second one. “And a crowbar, too. Not exactly the perfect tools, but a start.”

George stood up on the chair and began running her fingers along the ceiling. “There's got to be a loose board up here somewhere.”

“Maybe we should just wait until Heather falls asleep, and then work on the door,” Kim suggested. “The problem is, how will we know when she's asleep?”

“We do have one other hope,” Nancy said. “Bess was going to call the police.”

“Don't count on them coming to the rescue,” Alain said dejectedly. “I only knew about this place because I followed Hank here. The police will never find it. If they go looking for Hank, they'll wind up at his house at Solaire—”

“—where they'll find nothing,” George finished grimly.

“Okay, back to Plan A,” Nancy said with a sigh. “Let's give Heather some time to fall asleep. Then we'll make our escape.”

Time passed slowly in the dark basement. It was impossible to tell what time of night it was. Nancy didn't want to use her already-dying flashlight on something as useless as checking her watch. Exhausted, she leaned against the wall and felt her eyes close. It couldn't hurt to catch a few hours of sleep.