The snowy white form of the seagull flapped its wings briefly, then glided. So exactly did it match the speed of the ship that it seemed to float in time that had stopped.

Nancy Drew squinted into the bright sunshine and let the wind stream through her golden-red hair. Her hair was straight and cut short this summer, falling above the collar in the back. Her skin was evenly bronzed as if she had spent much time outdoors of late, hiking or cycling. There was something steady and imperturbable in the gaze of her grayish-blue eyes. One got the feeling that she was someone who would be useful in an emergency.

Mr. Fisk and his daughter Ivy remained in their seats inside the ferry. He was thinking that he was glad his daughter had invited her friends Nancy Drew, George Fayne and Bess Marvin to join them on their visit to Catriola Island. He expected that there would be some awkwardness to visiting a home that he had inherited but which he had never seen before, and was glad to have the company.

Bess and George were leaning against the railing, looking down on the waters churned into a white froth by the ship's passage. Bess's fair-complexioned face had already gained a red glow from her brief time on the ship's deck. George's skin was darker naturally and her legs were now tanned an attractive brown.

"Do you think it should be 'azure sea' or 'cerulean ocean'? How about 'the sea, shining with the iridescence of an abalone shell'?" Bess wondered.

"What are you going on about?"

"I've started keeping a travel journal. I thought it would be a good idea to record these adventures we go on with Nancy."

"That's not a bad idea. Every Holmes needs his Watson. I'm surprised neither of us has thought of it before. Just don't make it sound like a travel documentary. There's nothing worse than interrupting a perfectly fascinating mystery adventure to learn about, I don't know, the local lace-making industry."

"You mean, like 'The local lace-making industry was started by the St. Marymeade School for Abandoned Girls in the 1840's when they wanted to get some income from the little beggars. And now these exquisitely hand-crafted products are sold in fine shops all over the world.'"

"Yes, none of that. People should either see the place for themselves or read the tourist brochures."

"So I won't mention that we had to cross the border to get to this place, and how we have to convert from Fahrenheit degrees to Celsius degrees, and how they drive on the left hand side of the road."

"They do not!"

As the five of them were seated in the car ready to disembark, Ivy couldn't help but articulate her doubts. "It just seems strange that this is the first time we've been here, considering the house has been in the family forever. No one even talked about great-grandfather. And the house has stood empty since he died, almost ten years ago."

Ivy was short and a little plump. Her fine light brown hair was pulled back severely. She wore gold metal glasses with tiny rectangular frames. Of course she hadn't spent as much time with the other girls as they had with each other, through all their exciting detective adventures, but if she felt a little left on the outside she never showed it.

Her father smiled politely. "There's nothing really mysterious about it. Sorry to disappoint you there, Nancy. My grandmother left a long time ago, when my father was only a child. She re-married and settled on the other side of the continent, virtually."

"What condition is the house in?" asked Nancy.

"It's been taken care of by a man named Horace Eberhart. He's a neighbor. He's sent photos of the work he's done and the place seems to be in good shape."

"You must have busy lives in River Heights. It's not surprising you haven't found time to see the house," Nancy said thoughtfully.

"My father had no interest in going back, so it's up to the next generation. Or make that generations."

"We really must thank you again for inviting us," said George graciously.

"It's our pleasure," said Mr. Fisk. "I expect you girls will have an enjoyable and relaxing vacation."

"Enjoyable, I'm sure, but I wouldn't count on it being relaxing, not with Nancy around," quipped Bess.