Chapter I: A Handful of Mysteries
"This hasn't been such a bad business trip, as far as business trips go, anyway," Carson Drew said as he sipped a glass of wine and looked out the window at the sun setting over the ocean.
"No," his eighteen-year-old daughter Nancy agreed, following his gaze. "I don't even mind that you dragged me along at the last minute."
"You make a good secretary at a pinch," Carson teased her.
Nancy took on a mock-offended look. "Dad, it's 'administrative assistant'. You know Caley hates to be called a secretary. You'd probably upset her so much she'd be sick, if she wasn't already."
Carson shook his head. "I've never met anyone so touchy. Maybe I should hire you to be my full-time secretary, Nancy. It would be good way for you to save up for law school."
"Yeah, well, about that," Nancy said. "What makes you so sure I'm planning on going to law school?"
"Oh, being the daughter of one of the finest lawyers in the country, it seems natural that you'd want to follow in his footsteps," Carson kidded her.
"But then I'd have to give up my detective work," Nancy reminded him.
"Lawyers solve mysteries sometimes," Carson replied.
"Yeah, like how to do a week's worth of paperwork in one day, everyday, and still have time to go to court and consult clients," Nancy teased.
"Well, that's what I need a secretary for," Carson teased her back.
The father and daughter were very close and often bantered. This was partly because Kate Drew, Nancy's mother and Carson's wife, had died fifteen years before. Having experienced such a loss, both of them knew how fortunate they were to have the other.
Right now, they were in Troy, Oregon, a resort town on the Pacific coast, for a conference that Carson had been obliged to attend. The conference had ended that afternoon, but the Drews had decided to stay a couple more days for some extra R & R.
As their teasing took a lull, Nancy – who had built up quite a reputation for herself as an amateur detective – got the uneasy feeling that she was being watched. She casually scanned the room to try to decide whether someone was really watching or if her sleuthing instincts were just running amok.
Her survey of the room quickly revealed that there was indeed someone staring intently at her – a blond-haired boy whom she guessed to be about fifteen years old. He was sitting all alone, with a large plate of food in front of him. From the looks of things, he'd only been picking at it. When he saw Nancy look back at him, he looked startled and turned his attention to his plate. Even then, Nancy noticed that he wasn't doing much eating.
Carson noticed that Nancy seemed distracted by something. "Do you see a mystery?" he teased her.
"Of course," she replied lightly. Then she said more seriously, "There's a boy sitting across the room staring at me and barely eating his food."
"There's no mystery there," Carson said with a grin.
Nancy tilted her head to the side and shot him a look of good-humored annoyance. "This boy's probably only around fifteen."
Carson shrugged. "Fifteen-year-old boys notice girls, too. I'm sure that's all there is to it."
"I suppose so," Nancy conceded.
She and her dad had finished eating by that time, and they stood up. Carson suggested going down to the beach before it was time for bed, and Nancy agreed.
The beach was cool after the sun had set, and both the Drews breathed the sea air in deeply. Nancy waded out into the water, but only up to her knees since she hadn't changed into her swimsuit.
"I wish we had beaches like this back in River Heights," she said. "The little beaches that form alongside the Muskoka River are nothing compared to this."
Carson had to agree. "It is nice. I'm glad we decided to stay so that we can have a few days to enjoy it without having to listen to any speeches in between swims."
As Nancy stood in the water, gazing at the still-red horizon, she again got the uneasy feeling that someone was watching her. She looked over her shoulder, half expecting to see the boy from the hotel dining room standing on the beach, but there was no one there who seemed to be interested in her. With a puzzled wrinkle to her forehead, she turned back to the ocean.
Nancy woke up early the next morning. Glancing at the weather forecast on her phone, she saw that there was a good chance of rain later that day. Right now, though, the sky was clear and the newly-risen sun was making the water look too inviting to refuse. She hastily put on her swimming suit and hurried down to the beach for an early-morning swim.
After she had spent about fifteen minutes in the water, she climbed up on some rocks above the beach to admire the view. She sat there for a short time before she noticed a small stone holding down a piece of paper. Unable to resist her curiosity, she picked it up and read it:
If you find this, my name is Michael Hertz. I need help. Please help me. My gu
"How strange," Nancy murmured aloud. She wondered if this was a prank of some kind, but something told her the plea for help was real. Who was Michael Hertz and why did he need help? Why was his note unfinished?
Forgetting the beautiful morning in the face of a new mystery, Nancy practically ran back to the hotel and went to the front desk.
"Excuse me," she said to the clerk there. "I was wondering if you have anyone by the name of Michael Hertz staying here."
"I'm afraid I'm not allowed to give that kind of information out," the clerk replied politely.
"It's just that I found something with his name on it, and I wanted to return it to him," Nancy said, truthfully enough.
"Oh, well, in that case, I can take care of it," the clerk told her, holding out his hand.
"So there is a Michael Hertz here," Nancy replied.
The clerk smiled ruefully. "You got that one out of me. Yes, there is a Michael Hertz here. However, I'll have to return his property to him, if there really is any."
Nancy only smiled enigmatically and thanked him. Then she went back up to her room to change her clothes for breakfast.
While she and her father ate their morning meal, Nancy showed the message to Carson and told him how she had found it. She also told him what she had learned from the clerk.
"It's too bad you couldn't have gotten the room number for this Michael Hertz," Carson said. "This note could be a prank, of course, but I doubt that he would have signed his real name to it then."
"Unless someone else wrote it and put his name on it," Nancy suggested. "What do you think we should do? Should we go to the police?"
"It couldn't hurt," Carson agreed. "On the other hand, I'd feel a little silly if this did turn out to be a joke of some sort."
"In that case, let's talk to Michael Hertz before we bring the police in on it," Nancy said.
Carson grinned at her. "And how are you going to locate him?"
Nancy grinned back. "I'll find a way."
After breakfast, they began strolling around the hotel, listening for any kind of a clue. While they didn't find out anything about the mysterious Michael Hertz, they did learn something else interesting. A middle-aged couple were angrily arguing with the front desk clerk.
"I'm very sorry," the clerk said in obvious agitation, "but it's in our policy that we're not responsible for things like this."
"But it happened in your hotel," the woman insisted. "You're going to have to make restitution."
"We have it posted very clearly that we're not responsible for lost items that are not checked in at the front desk," the clerk explained, fidgeting his hands in nervousness and frustration.
Another woman who was professionally dressed strode up to the desk. "What's going on here?" she asked.
"Thank goodness," the clerk muttered before saying, "Mr. and Mrs. Foxe have lost several expensive pieces of jewelry and would like the hotel to make it up to them."
"Are you a manager?" Mr. Foxe demanded, turning to the newly-arrived woman.
"Yes," she told him. "My name is Carla. I'm an assistant manager here. I'll be more than happy to help you in any way I can, but the hotel cannot be held responsible for lost items that weren't checked in at the front desk."
"The jewels aren't lost," Mr. Foxe told her flatly. "They were stolen."
Rather than looking surprised, Carla let out a barely perceptible sigh and then pasted on a smile. "I'm sure that the jewels have only been mislaid and will turn up. I'll help you search for them."
"Someone broke into our room and stole them," Mrs. Foxe insisted.
"Excuse me," Nancy broke in. "There's been a burglary?"
"There's nothing to worry about," Carla hastened to assure her. "Just a misunderstanding."
"There certainly has been a burglary," Mr. Foxe said, ignoring Carla. "When we woke up this morning, my wife and I found over seventy-five thousand dollars worth of jewelry stolen from our room."
Carla and the desk clerk blanched when they heard the amount. For a few seconds, Carla stammered about, trying to find something to say to allay her customers' concerns. Before she could form any intelligible words, Nancy had already asked her next question.
"Have you called the police?"
"Obviously," Mr. Foxe replied in annoyance. "That was the first thing we did. They should be here any minute."
"Was there any evidence that someone had broken into your room?" Nancy asked.
"You mean other than my jewels having vanished into thin air?" Mrs. Foxe countered.
"Yes, besides that," Nancy replied patiently.
"Well, no," Mr. Foxe admitted. "The jewels were gone, but nothing else seemed to have been touched."
"Then the burglar knew exactly what he wanted and where to find it," Carson commented. "Were the jewels hidden or out in the open?"
"Hidden, of course," Mrs. Foxe told him. "I know better than to leave a small fortune lying about in the open."
"How long have you been staying here?" Nancy asked.
"Eight nights," Mr. Foxe said. "And I assure you we're not going to make it nine."
"Have you worn the jewelry, Mrs. Foxe?" Nancy continued. "Or did you tell anyone about it?"
"Of course I wore it," Mrs. Foxe replied. "Why else would I have brought it?"
"Then is there anyone you know of who could have found out where you had hidden it?" Carson asked.
"Not a soul," Mr. Foxe stated confidently.
"What about the cleaning staff?" Nancy persisted.
"Now, just wait right there," Carla interrupted, finding her voice at last. "Our entire staff is completely dependable. I'd stake my life on it that every single person is honest."
"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Nancy told her seriously. "Not only would you almost certainly lose that bet – and that's not one you want to lose – but exaggerating like that isn't going to impress the police when they get here."