Nancy munched on a buttered piece of toast, watching her new roommate as she attempted to fry some eggs. "Raya usually does the cooking," Daphne explained, catching Nancy's interested look. "I know. I know. It's supposed to be sunny-side up, but it looks more like scrambled."
"You said it," Nancy agreed.
"I miss Raya," Daphne said wistfully. "Did you find anything last night?" she asked. "You were up awfully late."
Nancy passed a hand over her eyes. She and Daphne had tried calling several of Raya's relatives and old friends in the evening, hoping someone had heard from the girl. No one had been particularly helpful. Everyone knew Raya had gone to Mexico and chalked up her silence merely to travel. Only Daphne, Nancy mused, seemed to be most concerned.
After giving up on phone calls, they had grabbed a quick dinner at a restaurant on campus, and that was when Daphne had broached the subject of Nancy performing a thorough investigation of Raya's computer. The girl had wanted Nancy to skim through all of Raya's documents and programs. At first, Nancy had been a little reluctant, not wanting to invade Raya's privacy, but Daphne had been insistent. "If you were missing for a week and there was a clue on your computer, wouldn't you want your roommate to discover it?" she had pointed out. Daphne had gone on to say that she'd already looked through the documents, but maybe a pair of detective eyes would be better.
Finally agreeing, Nancy had returned to Daphne's apartment alone while the collegiate had dashed off for her evening course. That was how the detective had found herself scanning through various virtual school-related folders and programs until the wee hours of the morning. Raya was a very organized person, Nancy had to admit. Her research files were arranged chronologically, and she had saved quite a few research journal articles to her hard drive. Also, all of Raya's e-mails to Daphne that she had written during her first trip were copied into her word processor—and, like Daphne had said, she and her roommate had corresponded every day.
Muyaxche sounded like an interesting archeological find, Nancy had noted. Raya had gone to great pains to describe its location and environs. The ruins she and her team had been excavating had obviously excited the girl a great deal, although she'd openly admitted that she had no idea what they had uncovered. 'A workshop, I would guess,' she had written. 'Nothing so spectacular as a temple, but at least it gives us some insight as to how the Mayans lived their everyday life. Not much has been documented about daily life. I'd like my research to focus on that.'
Raya had mentioned the name of her colleagues in those early e-mails. Nancy had written them down, but had not yet asked Daphne about them. Nancy had been so engrossed on the computer that she hadn't heard Daphne's return after her evening class. She hadn't even noticed how much time had passed until her eye had fallen on her travel alarm clock at two in the morning.
"I think so," Nancy said now to Daphne's question. "She mentioned a few people on the first Muyaxche trip—one in particular. Someone named Alex."
"Oh, Alexandros Leon," Daphne said, a dreamy look shifting across her face. She filled their plates with her egg creation and set the pan down in the sink. "He is this hunk of a graduate student—why are you looking at me that way?"
"No reason," Nancy said with a laugh, digging into her eggs. "It's just that you sound like my friend Bess—that's totally something she would say."
"I don't know the whole story between Raya and Alex," Daphne continued. "But I think she likes him. It's too bad he didn't go down to Mexico on this trip."
"He didn't?" Nancy wondered. "Why?"
Daphne shrugged, putting her fork down. "I'm not sure. No, only John Honig and Professor King went this time—with Raya."
Nancy glanced at the names she'd copied. "So Professor Ramirez didn't go either."
Daphne shrugged again. "I guess not." She brightened slightly. "Do you think they have heard from Raya?"
"Maybe. I'll try and ask them today," Nancy told her. They breakfasted in relative silence for a few moments before Nancy broke it with a request. "Tell me more about Raya."
"Oh, we get along really well," Daphne began, pushing her plate away and grabbing a handful of grapes from a bowl on the table. "We've been roommates for the past year. I met her through my father—he became acquainted with her when he was here, helping to restructure the campus. She's studying Central and North American History, and she's trying to get a minor in Archeology. She's so smart!"
Nancy inwardly agreed. The papers she had read last night, though beyond her scope of knowledge, indicated Raya was an intelligent and driven person.
"And she's so genuine," Daphne went on. "I feel like I can talk to her about everything. She's been a great support for me, what with my family's problems and all. She gets it, you know? My father's Alzheimer's, my relationship with my brothers, our financial problems. I'm really missing her right now."
Nancy gave her an encouraging smile. "Hopefully, by the end of the day, we'll know where she is."
"I hope so," Daphne sighed. "I hope so."
o…o…o…O…o…o…o
Frank was the first of the brothers to wake—he usually was. It was a symptom of being a habitually light sleeper. To Frank's astonishment, however, a glance at the alarm clock near his bed revealed that it was past nine o'clock. Over the summer so far, he had been up near the crack of dawn. He smiled ruefully and surveyed his room. Perhaps the opulent nature of his surroundings had lulled him into a good night's sleep.
He and Joe had arrived in the small city of Westchester mid-evening the day before. The manila envelope that Martin Ivers had supplied them had gained them access to a gorgeous suite in the Palisades—an exclusive hotel-style residence in a secluded part of the Winchester University campus.
"The rich sure know how to live," Joe had commented when they had neared the building, which had been designed in the style of a Victorian mansion. The interior décor was equally impressive, with intricate wainscoting and tasteful wallpaper. The brothers' suite had two bedrooms that adjoined a large sitting area with wide windows overlooking a nearby park.
By the time they had unpacked and gone downstairs to eat, they'd learned that the large dining room was closed for the night. Although their suite had a kitchen, Joe had vehemently stated he was too hungry to waste time going grocery shopping and then returning to make a meal. As a result, the Hardys had gone to a campus bistro and, as they waited for their order, they'd begun to bounce ideas off one another.
"Why do you think we're on a university campus for this private venture?" Frank had wondered aloud at one point.
Joe had shrugged. "No idea. But, hey, didn't Martin Ivers say that his previous colleague, John something-or-other, goes to school here?"
"John Honig," Frank had said, nodding. "We should look him up while we're here." He'd paused for a moment, thinking. Finally, he had asked, "Do you think the university owns that land down in Mexico, and is putting it up for sale?"
"I don't know, Frank. How could a university not know it is sitting on a potential gold mine?"
Joe had stopped talking immediately the moment his food was served, and Frank had also dismissed thoughts of the case in order to enjoy his meal. He hadn't known just when he'd noticed the pair of girls at the table behind Joe, but for some reason his attention had been drawn to them more and more during their stay. In particular, it was the girl that had faced him that piqued his interest, but he couldn't figure out why. He was certain he'd never met her before—he wouldn't have easily forgotten a girl with red-gold hair and sparkling eyes—but some reason he couldn't shake the feeling that he knew her. The girls had looked as though they were having a serious conversation, and finally the red-haired one seemed to agree to something the other had said. After they had paid for their dinner, the girls appeared to have parted ways, and Frank had been no closer to remembering her identity.
He'd racked his brain all night after he and Joe had returned to their room, but to no avail.
Odd, he thought now as made his way over to the bathroom to brush his teeth. He wasn't sure why he was preoccupied with the girl's identity, but he had the impression that it was important.
"Well, what's our plan for today?" Joe asked, interrupting Frank's thoughts. He stuck his head into the open door as Frank towel-dried his face.
"We ought to introduce ourselves to Emily Sturling," Frank replied, thinking over the itinerary that had been included in the package. "I believe there is to be a networking brunch of some sort this morning."
As Joe readied himself, Frank took a closer look at the package Martin Ivers had provided them, as well as the collection of papers the front desk had given them when they had checked in. "This is a week dedicated to advances in mining technology," Frank said out loud. "There are several lectures going on all day, and the keynote speaker is giving his address tonight. However, according to the stuff Ivers gave us, tomorrow's gala is sponsored by the Department of History and Archeology."
"Huh," Joe grunted, reaching into his suitcase and pulling out a shirt. "Why would the History Department be involved in mining, and a land sale for that matter?"
"I don't know," Frank conceded. "What's even more interesting is that this land sale is not specifically mentioned in the mining week activities. It's listed only as 'End of Conference Gala'."
"So only a select group of people know that Muyaxche is up for sale," Joe stated.
"Well, let's find out."
Joe's prediction proved to be true. As the brothers made their way down to the exquisite dining room for the brunch buffet, they could hear snippets of conversation speculating on the nature of the gala. "It was tacked on to the end of our conference," one professor told Frank between bites of a melon. "Not that I'm complaining—sounds like it will be a glitzy affair."
"Do you know what it's for?" Frank asked in a neutral tone.
The professor smiled, reaching for a strawberry. "There's been some talk, but no one knows for sure. Something about a discovery the Archeology department has made."
Joe, in the meantime, managed to spot the famed Emily Sturling, and Frank excused himself from the professor to join his brother. Sturling was in her forties, with the demeanor of someone who was successful in business. Her suit was immaculate and her medium brown hair was perfectly coiffed. She also seemed to exude some nervous energy, and her pale eyes darted about as she took in the other guests.
"Emily Sturling?" Joe asked, extending his hand.
"Yes," she replied, flicking her eyes in their direction. She seemed a little confused, and Frank concluded that she had taken them for college students.
"We're Frank and Joe Hardy," Frank explained. "We're here on behalf of Martin Ivers."
"Oh, dear Martin," Sturling breathed. "I thought he was going to be here himself."
"He's been feeling under the weather," Frank informed her.
"Nothing too serious, I hope. When you see Martin again you must thank him for his generous contribution to Gemsun."
"I trust he will be richly rewarded for his contribution," Joe said with a hint of menace.
"Oh, I see. You're here to protect his investment, right?" Sturling smiled stiffly. "Rest assured, everything is going according to plan."
"Is it?" Frank questioned in a low voice. "We have reason to believe Edward Chan is trying to place a bid on Muyaxche, too."
Sturling's face froze for a moment before she recovered, taking a sip of her coffee. "Edward?" she asked. "No, that isn't his style. Besides, he can't."
"But you do know that all of Martin's investors have been warned about investing with you?"
Sturling eyed them carefully. "Yes. I'm sure that is Edward's doing. It doesn't matter, however. We issued a statement to restore investor confidence. Didn't you receive our release?" she asked pointedly.
"We were already traveling, I guess," Frank answered smoothly.
She nodded, looking distracted. "Well, I hope to see you two at the presentation tomorrow evening," she said, her eyes now scanning the room. "I'm sure we'll have a lot to celebrate afterward." With that, she strode away to engage another woman in conversation.
"Well," Joe drawled. "Apparently Emily Sturling doesn't seem to be too concerned about her investors pulling out. She's pretty confident that she's going to purchase Muyaxche."
"I wonder who her competitors are?" Frank wondered, turning to survey the area. Just by casual inspection, there was no way he could distinguish those in academia with those in industry. He and Joe lingered at the brunch table for a while as the crowd thinned considerably, and they were about to head back to their room when Frank caught a glimpse of a familiar face near the entrance of the dining room. "Look," he said urgently to Joe. "Isn't that Edward Chan?"
"Yeah," Joe said. "Uh-oh. I think he's about to duck out. Yep, there he goes. Should we follow him?"
"Do you even have to ask?" Frank murmured with a smile.