Trail of Lies (10 page)

Carson turned to him. “How'd you do in the trials today?” he asked.

“I won,” Steve said flatly.

Carson reached over and shook his hand. “Congratulations. I'm glad to hear that.”

“So am I! Are you happy now?” Henry asked Steve.

The question hadn't sounded provocative to Nancy, but Steve gave his father an irritated look. “Not until I win the Solstice Derby. You know that.”

Henry changed the subject. “We have another ship arriving tonight,” he told Nancy. “The
Dall Sheep.
It'll be unloading tomorrow.”

“Would you mind if I had a look around it before it unloads?” she asked.

“Not at all. In fact, I'm going to the shipyard tomorrow morning. Why don't you ride in with me?” Henry offered. “But we have to go early so that I can get back in time to fly to Fairbanks before noon.”

“No problem.” Nancy looked at George. “Want to come along?”

George groaned. “No thanks. I'd rather sleep.”

When dinner was over, Nancy returned to the telephone closet and tried calling Amanda again. There was still no answer. One way or another, she'd have to find the girl the next day. Time was running out for Henry.

When Nancy hung up and stepped into the hallway, she found John waiting for her. “Can I talk to you?” he asked.

“Sure.” Curious, Nancy followed him into the kitchen. He pulled out a chair for her and reached into his pocket.

“Here.” He handed her a piece of twisted red paper.

Nancy stared at it. “What is it?” she asked. The paper looked ordinary, except for a black mark on one edge.

“I think it's what frightened Lindsay's dogs,” John said. “After I left you, I started thinking about what could have made the noise. I went back and looked around. This was lying on the track.” He pointed at the paper. “I was lucky that it wasn't a white one. I'd never have found it in all the snow.”

“Found what?” Nancy asked, mystified. “What are you talking about?”

“It's like a firecracker. There's a mild explosive inside it, and when you hit it against something hard, it makes a loud bang.” John grinned. “My brother Jim and I used to play with them. I didn't know kids still used them.”

Nancy held the red paper up and examined it. Now she knew why no one had seen a whip. Any one of the spectators—including Amanda, John, and Craig—could have carried the firecracker. It was small and easy enough to use that even Steve could have done it on his sled.

Which, she thought, puts me right back where I started. Anyone could have done it—Steve or Craig to ruin Lindsay's race, Amanda—or any of them, really—to put me out of commission. The question is,
who
did do it?

• • •

As Henry Wilcox drove Nancy into Anchorage the next morning, he asked her what she
was looking for on the ship that had just arrived.

“I want to see if any of the cargo was loaded in Seattle,” she told him. “That's where the other smuggled shipments came from, remember?”

The
Dall Sheep
wasn't as modern as the
Musk Ox,
but it had the same air of prosperity and fresh paint that Nancy had seen on the other ship.

Henry led Nancy to the front of the ship and pulled out the cargo lists for her. “I'll leave you to look through them,” he said. “I want to talk to the guard.”

She searched each of the shipping receipts, looking for any cargo that had originated in Seattle, but there was none.

“Any luck?” Henry asked when he returned.

“Not much,” Nancy said. “Could we stop by police headquarters? I'd like to see whether they've checked the pallets of books.”

Henry agreed, but unfortunately Detective Chandler had nothing to report. They'd searched each carton, and they were all the same—filled with paperback books.

“We've had the Totem Pole's ivory supplier in for questioning, too,” Detective Chandler told Nancy and Henry. “It looks as if he was duped just like everyone else.”

“Who did he buy the statues from?” Nancy asked. “Did he say?”

The detective glanced quickly at his notes.
“Well, he buys a lot of his stuff from a lot of different people, and he wasn't sure which one sold him the ivory bear.” Chandler looked up, and his eyes met Nancy's. “But he thinks he bought the fake at an auction outside Anchorage, from a tall young man who arrived on a dogsled.”

A
TALL YOUNG MAN
on a dogsled,” Nancy repeated faintly. The description fit Steve Wilcox pretty well. She glanced at Henry out of the corner of her eye, but he didn't seem to have caught the significance of Chandler's statement. Probably it had never even occurred to him to suspect his own son, Nancy realized.

Well, there was no concrete proof yet. And after all, it was possible that the supplier had met with some other tall young dogsled driver. For Henry's and George's sakes, she hoped it was so.

“Thanks, Detective Chandler,” she said. Turning to Henry, she forced a cheerful smile. “Ready to head home?”

When they arrived back at the house, Henry left the car running while he went in to get Carson. Nancy followed him in.

John Tilden came in from the kitchen. “Is George up yet?” Nancy asked him. She wanted to prepare her friend for the possibility that Steve was involved in the smuggling after all.

“I saw her go outside just after you left this morning,” the butler replied. “She said she was going to the kennels to look for Steve.”

Nancy headed back outside. As she approached the barn, the dogs' excited barking told her someone was inside with them.

Nancy slid the wooden door open and stepped inside, blinking as her eyes adjusted from bright light to the dim interior. Steve was standing near the barrel stove in the middle of the floor, stirring a large pot of a strong-smelling substance. Craig was at the far end of the building, once again cleaning straw out of the dogs' beds.

“Hi!” she called. “Have you seen George?”

Steve turned toward Nancy, still holding the wooden spoon in his hand. “I thought she went into Anchorage with you and Dad.”

Nancy shook her head. “John said she came out here early this morning.” She walked closer to see what Steve was stirring. “What is that?” she asked, wrinkling her nose.

“Dog food. Want a taste?” Steve dipped the
spoon back into the thick mixture and drew out a sample. “Fish, beaver, lamb, and liver—nothing but the finest ingredients for my dogs.”

Nancy grimaced. “It sounds awful, and it smells even worse.”

Steve gave her a tolerant smile. “The dogs need the nutrients. They race better when they've eaten a meal like this.” He put the spoon back into the pot, then called to Craig, “Do you know where George is?”

Craig dropped the shovel into a pile of straw and walked toward them. “George?” he repeated. “She was here first thing this morning. She said she was going to Lindsay's.” He looked at his watch. “That was a couple of hours ago, though. She ought to be back by now.”

Nancy was surprised. George hadn't mentioned that plan to her. She thanked Craig for the information, then headed back to the house. Hurrying to the telephone, she looked up Lindsay's number and dialed.

No answer. She tried again, thinking she might have misdialed. Still no answer.

Nancy wrote down Lindsay's address, grabbed the keys to the car Henry had lent her, and headed for the garage. Five minutes later she pulled into the driveway of Lindsay's house.

She walked up the front steps and knocked on the door. No one answered.

The kennels were out back, a good distance from the house. The sound of yipping told her she was headed in the right direction. When she rounded a small bend, she saw the barn. She pushed open the door and looked around.

“Hi, Lindsay,” Nancy called in greeting. “Is George still here?”

Like Steve, Lindsay was stirring a pot of vile-smelling food. She looked up at Nancy, a puzzled expression on her face.

“Was George supposed to be here?” she asked.

“She's not at the Wilcoxes', and she told Craig she was coming here,” Nancy said.

Lindsay shook her head. “I haven't seen her since the trial run yesterday. I was planning to come over and see you two today, to make sure you were both okay after that fall. But with a storm coming, I had to get the dogs fed.”

Lindsay gestured at the mixture she was stirring. “This is one bad thing about winter. In summer we give the dogs dry food, but they burn so many more calories in winter that we have to cook this stew. They love it, but I sure don't.” Lindsay stirred the pot once more. “I wish I could feed my team pellets all year.”

Nancy tried not to be impatient, though she was really beginning to wonder about George. “I was hoping George would be here,” she
admitted. “I thought she might have asked you for another chance to drive a dogsled.”

Lindsay gave Nancy a quick glance. “If she shows up, I'll tell her to call you.”

“Thanks.”

Lindsay walked to the door with Nancy, then looked up at the sky. Though it had been blue an hour before, it was now gray, and there was a heaviness to the air.

“The weatherman predicted a big storm,” Lindsay remarked. “Looks like it's going to happen.”

As Nancy slid behind the steering wheel, she frowned. It wasn't like George to disappear without telling anyone. What if she was in trouble? She could have gone for a walk and gotten lost in the woods or something. Maybe Nancy should raise an alarm.

She was about to start her car when she saw a battered old sedan pulling into Lindsay's driveway. The driver's door opened, and Amanda Spear got out.

“Amanda,” Nancy whispered. She couldn't pass up this chance to talk to her most elusive suspect. Jumping out of her car, she hurried over to block Amanda's path. “Hello,” she said cheerfully. “I've been looking for you. I missed you at the trials yesterday.”

Whatever reaction Nancy had expected, it wasn't the one she got. Amanda's face turned an angry shade of red. “If you want to gloat
over Steve's victory, don't bother,” she snapped. “He may have beaten Lindsay, but it wasn't a fair race.” Her voice was filled with scorn. “Steve's got every advantage. His father gives him all the money he needs, and he's got a trainer who can take the dogs out every morning.”

Nancy started to interrupt, but the other girl wouldn't let her speak.

“Don't try to deny it. I saw those dogs on my way to work this morning. I tell you, Nancy, it makes me sick. Steve's a spoiled brat.”

Nancy held up a hand to stop Amanda's tirade. “I don't want to talk about Steve's dog team.”

Amanda's expression changed. “Oh?” she said cautiously.

“Look, why don't we go sit in my car?” Nancy suggested. “It's freezing out here.”

“Why?” Amanda asked. “How long is this going to take?”

Nancy looked at her levelly. “That's up to you,” she said.

Amanda stared at Nancy for a long minute. Then she turned toward the car. “Let's go.”

The girls got into the car, and Nancy turned on the ignition so that she could run the heater. Amanda, seated in the passenger seat, folded her hands in her lap. “What do you want?” she asked.

“I want some real answers from you.”

Amanda twisted a lock of hair around one finger. “What are you talking about?” she said, and Nancy noted the quaver in her voice.

“What do you know about the ivory that's been smuggled on the Wilcox ships?” she demanded.

Amanda's eyes flew wide open. She looked utterly dumbfounded. “What ivory?”

“You know—the little carved puffins and bears. Was it Steve's idea?” Nancy asked. That was a shot in the dark, but she had to start this conversation somewhere. “Is that how you got involved?”

Amanda's face was white. “I don't know anything about any smuggling. How could I be involved in something I know nothing about?”

Nancy looked at her for a long moment. “You have a motive and opportunity, and you've certainly been acting very strangely.”

Amanda reacted instantly. “Wait a minute! You'd better explain all that.”

“Let's start with opportunity,” Nancy said. “You work at Wilcox, so you have access to the shipping schedules and practically every piece of information about the company. It wouldn't be hard to arrange an illegal shipment of ivory.”

“A lot of people have access to that same information,” Amanda said hotly. “Everyone
from the receptionist to the night watchman knows the schedule.”

“That may be true,” Nancy agreed, “but how many people have acted the way you did? You disappeared right after I was pushed down the stairs, and—”

Amanda interrupted. “What are you talking about? When were you pushed down the stairs?”