The Wrong Track

W
OW
!” Nancy Drew exclaimed, peering out the window at the snow swirling in wintry gusts. “It's really coming down!”

“That's terrific,” her friend George Fayne said from where she lay sprawled on her living room floor, a bowl of popcorn at her elbow. “The trails at Tall Pines could use it,” she said.

Nancy brushed her silky reddish blond hair behind her ears and pulled her royal blue sweater tight around her. “You've got skiing on the brain,” Nancy joked, turning to face her friend.

“She sure does,” Bess Marvin, George's cousin, agreed from the sofa. “Pass the popcorn, George.”

“What about your diet?” George grinned.

Bess tossed back her long blond hair and snatched at the bowl. “It's low-cal,” she insisted, popping a handful into her mouth. “No butter.”

Nancy smiled at Bess and George. For cousins, they couldn't be less alike. Dark-haired George was tall with an athlete's slim build. She was into bicycling and skiing. Bess was short and blond, and the sports she was most into were shopping and trying to stick to the latest fad diet.

“Are you guys ready to watch this?” George asked, holding up a videocassette. She read out loud from the back of the box. “ ‘Tall Pines—the Midwest's newest, biggest, most luxurious cross-country ski resort. State-of-the-art trails. Fully loaded exercise rooms. Spa. Sauna. Three-star restaurant and lodge—' ”

“Now those last two I could go for,” Bess said, reaching for the video.

George held it away from her. “ ‘Private banquet rooms for conventions. Heated indoor pool.' ”

“This place sounds like too much,” Nancy said. She plopped down on the floor next to George to study the picture on the cassette box. Nestled in a deep valley of thick green pines, Tall Pines lived up to its name. The complex—which consisted mainly of cedar and glass buildings—was beautiful. “I can see why you want to work there,” Nancy said to George.

George popped the cassette into the VCR and pressed Play. “I know I can teach skiing, and as soon as I memorize this video, there's no way they won't hire me!”

“What ever happened to Rob Watson's place?” Bess asked, stifling a yawn.

Bess was referring to a resort north of River
Heights where George had always gone cross-country skiing before.

“What about Watson's trails?” Nancy asked George. “Aren't they as good?”

George shrugged, her eyes glued to the TV screen as the video came on. “Sure. I guess the trails are as good, but Rob hasn't got all the extra stuff Tall Pines has.”

As Nancy watched the video, she saw that George was right. She'd been to Rob's a few times, and it couldn't begin to compare to the luxury Tall Pines had to offer. Rob's was basically just a few trails and a snack bar. Nancy wondered if he was losing business to the new resort already.

She was about to ask George when the doorbell rang. George stopped the video and got up to answer the front door.

Nancy could spy a tall, brown-haired girl talking to George in the hallway. The girl seemed upset, and George was trying to calm her down. Finally she put an arm around the girl and led her into the living room.

“Nancy, Bess,” George said, “this is Rebecca Montgomery. Rebecca, this is my friend Nancy Drew and my cousin Bess Marvin.”

“Nice to meet you,” Rebecca said, her voice unsteady. She was very pretty, with intense brown eyes and a cascade of soft brown hair. Dropping her purse from her shoulder to her hand, Rebecca perched on a nearby rocking chair.

George sat down next to Bess on the sofa.
“Rebecca hooked me up with the guy who's interviewing at Tall Pines.”

Rebecca smiled a little, but Nancy was watching her hands as they twisted nervously in her lap. The girl was obviously upset.

“Rebecca's in trouble,” George said softly, confirming Nancy's suspicions. “I told her you might be able to help.”

“What kind of trouble?” Nancy asked.

“Should I tell them, or do you want to?” George asked Rebecca.

The girl swallowed a few times. “You go ahead,” she said, unzipping her black and white parka. Shivering slightly, she held her hands out toward the warm blaze in the fireplace.

“Tell us what?” Bess asked, her blue eyes round with curiosity.

“Rebecca works in the office at Tall Pines.” George ran her hands through her short, curly brown hair. “Or used to work there. She got fired.”

Nancy saw Rebecca flinch at the word
fired.
“What happened?” Nancy asked.

“Someone stole fifty thousand dollars from the resort's safe,” Rebecca moaned, “and left two thousand of it in my purse!”

“Oh, no!” Bess exclaimed softly.

“I didn't do it,” Rebecca said to Nancy. “I didn't steal that money.”

“Of course you didn't,” George put in. She rested her elbows on her knees and squinted, deep in thought. “But somebody sure wants to make it look like you're a thief.”

Nancy hopped up and began to pace the room, her arms crossed in front of her. Her detective instincts were on red alert, and her mind raced with questions.

“What happened, exactly?” Nancy asked politely.

Rebecca took a deep breath and plunged in. “I'm the bookkeeper at Tall Pines. It's my first job out of school. I'm lucky to have it”—Rebecca paused—“or at least I
was
lucky.” Her eyes dropped to her lap. “Oh, what am I going to do?” she said suddenly, tears filling her eyes.

“Nancy'll help,” Bess assured her. “She's a crack detective and will find out what happened.”

Bess beamed at Nancy, and Nancy wished her friend hadn't said she'd take the case. That should be her decision to make. “Thanks for the vote of confidence,” she said graciously to Bess anyway. She turned to Rebecca. “Tell us about it. Take your time.”

Rebecca nodded, wiped the tears from her eyes, and went on. “The computerized payroll system wasn't working, so we had a lot of cash in the safe in Dave's office to pay the employees. Fifty thousand dollars, to be exact. The same afternoon that the money disappeared, three weeks ago, two thousand dollars of it turned up in my purse. I was so shocked when I found it, I didn't know what to do. I did report it, though—” Rebecca broke down again.

“And they accused you?” Nancy guessed.

Rebecca nodded her head slightly. “Not right
away, but Karl Reismueller—he's the owner of Tall Pines—told me this morning that the police and the insurance investigators both decided that there's enough evidence to indicate I could be involved. The serial numbers on the money I found in my purse matched the numbers on the money missing from the safe. And none of the other money has turned up!

“Reismueller said he wouldn't press charges against me,” Rebecca continued, the words spilling from her now. “He doesn't want the publicity. He did say he had to fire me, and he wouldn't give me a reference, either.”

“That's terrible,” Bess said, biting on a fingernail. “You'll have a really hard time getting another job without a reference.”

Rebecca swallowed several times. “Don't I know it,” she said. “You've got to help me. If I don't work, I can't pay back my student loans.”

George got up and went over to Rebecca. “Don't worry.” She put a hand on the girl's shoulder. “Nancy will help, won't you, Nan?”

“You bet I will,” she said, happy with her decision now. “You've got to start at the beginning and tell me everything. And I mean everything.”

• • •

Late the next morning Nancy was ready to pull her blue Mustang out of her driveway with George, Bess, and Rebecca there to see her off.

“See you later!” George said with a wave. “And I've decided not to try for a job while we're there. I'll just be a guest.”

Bess grinned and pulled her bright red beret down over her blond hair. “Don't forget—we've never seen you before in our lives!”

Nancy laughed and shifted the car into reverse. “Don't worry, Rebecca,” she called out the window. “We'll find the real thief, and you'll have your job back in no time.”

Rebecca smiled wanly. “Good luck,” she called back.

Before heading off Nancy took one last look at her friends. They'd be seeing one another later, but she'd be undercover and have to pretend not to know them. Instead of Nancy Drew, teen detective, she was going to the resort as Nancy Drew, teen reporter for
Tracks
, a cross-country skiing magazine.

After hearing Rebecca's story the previous day Nancy had realized that she wouldn't get anywhere investigating without a cover. Apparently Karl Reismueller had decided Rebecca was the thief, and that was that. The police had closed their investigation, since Reismueller wasn't going to press charges.

When Nancy decided to go undercover, her father, Carson Drew, arranged a cover story with an editor of
Tracks
. Tall Pines was expecting her and would have all kinds of tours and lessons planned for her week's stay. The publicity in
Tracks
would be good for the new resort.

Bess and George were coming up later in the day, and they were going to stay at Tall Pines, too. But Nancy would have to pretend she didn't know them.

As she pulled her Mustang onto the highway that led north to Tall Pines Nancy smiled to herself. It was a great day for a drive. The roads had been plowed, and the two hours it would take to get to Tall Pines should be time enough to plan her strategy. After Rebecca's explanation the day before, Nancy was more sure than ever that the girl hadn't stolen the money. Anyone with forty-eight thousand dollars wouldn't be so worried about how to pay off student loans. But then who had taken the cash?

Nancy mentally went over the short list of names Rebecca had given her: Dave Kendall, Rebecca's boss and the manager of Tall Pines; Karl Reismueller, the owner; Ben Wrobley, a ski instructor; and Jody Ashton, a friend of Rebecca's who ran the ski shop.

According to Rebecca, Ben and Jody had been in her office the morning of the theft. They had come by to see if their pay envelopes were ready. Dave and Karl both had offices next to Rebecca's, and supposedly they were the only ones who knew the combination to the safe where the money was kept.

Still, any one of them could have taken the fifty thousand dollars and stashed two thousand dollars of it in Rebecca Montgomery's purse, especially since Rebecca had left the office at least twice that day. One time she had had to drop off a computer printout at the front desk, and the second time Dave had asked her to take an envelope over to Karl Reismueller's condo.

Nancy stopped thinking about the money and
turned on the radio. It felt great to be back on a case, even if she had to work alone. What she wouldn't give to have Ned with her, though. Ned Nickerson, her longtime boyfriend, was away at college, and she saw too little of him during the school year.

A full-blown image of Ned popped into her mind just then. She could almost feel his strong arms around her, his breath on her face, his lips . . .

The sound of a horn blaring sent Nancy's foot to the brake. She had drifted over into the far lane. Better be more careful, Nancy told herself as she steered the Mustang back. Save thinking about Ned until after you've solved the mystery.

A couple of hours later Nancy turned onto a narrow, winding country road that was far more picturesque than the highway. After less than half an hour Nancy was turning into the entrance of the resort. The private drive curved gently away from the road and was lined with tall pines, their shapes softened into white triangles by the fresh snow.

Nancy drove past the parking lot to the main lodge. “Wow!” she said to herself softly.

The resort was even more breathtaking in real life than on the video. All of the buildings were made of cedar and glass, and no two were identical. A two-story lodge dominated the complex. Nancy pulled to a stop in front of the lodge, slipped on her green parka, and slid her hands into mittens that matched the purple stripe on her green ski pants.