Chapter Twenty-One: Casting the Net
This time, Nancy was determined to exchange information before they got sidetracked again.
"Tell me everything about your meeting with Cargill," she said, as Joe put the truck in gear.
"Why don't we talk over lunch?" Joe suggested.
Frank scoffed. "Okay, Chet."
"Hey, some of us worked out this morning," Joe said.
"Yeah, and then you ate all that - "
Nancy interrupted their bickering before it could escalate. "Boys," she said, in her best sweet-but-deadly-serious tone, "if someone doesn't tell me something very soon, I am going to explode."
"Sorry, Nan," Joe said, putting a hand on her leg and giving it a contrite squeeze. "Of course we'll fill you in. You need to tell us about your morning, too."
"Pull in there," Frank said, indicating the resort dining room. "You can grab a bite and we'll all get up to speed."
Accordingly, the trio selected their meals from the lunch buffet- plates of fried chicken with freshly-baked rolls, green beans, and fresh cantaloupe for Joe and Frank, and an apple and a single-serving packet of peanut butter for Nancy, who was not very hungry after the cake but knew her body would appreciate the protein and complex carbohydrates- and crowded around a two-person table in the far corner of the spacious room.
"It should be fine to talk here," Joe said, grabbing a third chair from an unoccupied table nearby.
Nancy glanced surreptitiously to their left and right and nodded her agreement. Occupying a table to one side were a pair of women with three messy and vociferous children under the age of five; on their other side sat a pair of teenagers making intense and dreamy eye contact. Neither group seemed likely to eavesdrop.
"For god's sake, fill her in before she explodes," Frank said teasingly.
"Good coffee, great scone selection, what else do you need to know?" Joe's eyes were sparkling with mischief. Then, before Nancy became really annoyed, he relented.
"You would've liked John Cargill. Great guy. Only about this tall," he said, gesturing to about shoulder height on his own tall frame, "but he's got a voice like a foghorn. Anyway, according to him, the historical society is made up of- how did he put it?"
" 'Ditherers, fuddy-duddies, and gossips,' " Frank supplied, straight-faced.
"Except for one guy," Joe went on. "Thomas Lesley. He's a relative newcomer to the area, though he does have some extended family around here."
"Another Tom," Nancy murmured, reaching for her phone to run a search on the name.
"Get this." Joe lowered his voice even further and leaned in close. "Tom Lesley is the owner of a mediocre bed-and-breakfast in town."
"The Fairmont?" Nancy guessed, showing him the link her search had just turned up.
"That's the one. He doesn't seem to have any connection to the missing girls or the camp property," Joe added. "We checked. But it would be good for his business if Vince's business were to fail. He can't compete with the range of amenities Caldwell House can offer."
"Or with the standard of service, honestly. Read some of those reviews," Frank suggested.
"He definitely has motive," Nancy murmured. She closed her browser. "Did you learn anything else?"
"Traffic," Frank said.
Nancy looked to Joe, who swallowed a bite of bread and nodded.
"Traffic," he agreed. "This is unrelated to the historical society. Cargill mentioned that the issue of traffic had come up at the last town board meeting. Vince is drawing in large numbers of people who are unfamiliar with the area. Apparently they tend to either speed and scare local cyclists and joggers, or drive so slowly they impede the flow of traffic."
"So Vince isn't quite the hero he made himself out to be," Nancy said.
Frank shrugged. "He's kept everything above-board, and you can't dispute that the resort has been good for the local economy. Small towns and change are like oil and water. Usually it's all talk."
"But maybe someone out there has taken it upon themselves to act," Nancy concluded.
"It's something to think about," Joe said. "What about you? Did you learn anything useful about the step-brother?"
In a few succinct sentences, Nancy described her encounter with Ed White and his family.
"This is purely a gut feeling," she said. "I don't have any facts to back it up- but I don't think he's a suspect."
"We'll keep digging," Joe said.
"Maybe we can focus on Tom Lesley for now and not worry about trying to find a connection to the 70s case," Frank suggested.
Nancy nodded, though she did not feel entirely happy with that approach.
There was a brief pause. Then Joe checked his watch and said, not quite meeting Nancy's eye, "We have several hours before we have to meet Vanessa. I'm going to try to make some headway with the staff."
"I'd planned to walk around the campground and see if I can pick up anything about the contractors working on the renovations," Frank said.
"And Nadia is on guest duty," Nancy said lightly. "I thought I'd hang out at the lake for a while and see what happens. Meeting Daria at the pool turned up a good lead, after all."
"We need to keep an eye on that girl," Joe commented.
"I know. I really don't want her going back to the sanatorium," Nancy said, thinking of the unknown owner of the sleeping bag and of how easy it would be for a wandering girl to simply vanish.
I wonder if something like that is what happened to Elizabeth and the others.
"What did you see in there?" Joe asked, picking up on the subtle unease which Frank had overlooked earlier.
Nancy immediately set aside her food and pulled up the selfie she had taken with the sleeping bag clearly visible over her shoulder. She zoomed in on the little cache of supplies.
"I didn't want to say anything in front of Daria," she said. "But someone has clearly been living there."
Joe let out a low whistle. "This is big."
"Just one person, from the look of it," Frank said, studying the image.
"We'll get a closer look later," Joe said. "It'll be easier without a teenager to worry about."
It would be even easier without Vanessa to worry about. Nancy knew that all three of them were thinking it, though no one spoke the words aloud. The sentiment hung like a cloud over their table for a long moment.
There's no one to stop us from going out there now, without her, Nancy thought. She glanced at Joe, who gave a tiny, helpless shrug.
She's the client. She's signing the check.
Nancy sighed.
"I wonder if Daria captured any ghosts in her pictures," she said, trying to disperse the tension.
"Let's check the ghost app," Joe said, pulling out his phone.
"You downloaded it?" Nancy said, amused.
"For research purposes," Joe said. "I don't know her username."
"Just find the sanatorium," Frank advised. "If anyone has posted pictures of it recently, it's probably Daria."
They all leaned in close, watching Joe navigate to the correct entry.
"That's not it. That's Caldwell House," Nancy said.
"It's haunted, too?" Frank said.
"Apparently. Okay, here's the right one." Joe pushed the phone into the middle of the table so everyone could see the screen. "Property status, type of activity, building history... damn, this is comprehensive. Oh, here we go. Photos."
"There," Nancy said eagerly. "Those pictures were posted today. That's her."
"Kinda stretching it to call that an orb," Frank commented.
"Oh ye of little faith," Joe intoned. "You see lens flare, I see spiritual manifestation."
Nancy laughed. "She wanted so badly to find something."
"Maybe she won't feel the need to go back if she thinks she got her proof," Frank said. He pushed back his chair and stood. "Okay if I take the truck for a bit?"
Joe tossed him the keys. "No problem. See you at four."
"Do you mind dropping me off on your way?" Nancy said quickly.
"Sure," he said. He pocketed the keys and grabbed their plates to return. "I'll be outside."
Nancy hesitated, looking at Joe. "Be safe," she said, finally, in lieu of the hundred other things she wanted to say.
He looked at her in a way which told her he understood. "You, too," he said. "I'll see you soon."
. . . . . . . . . .
Frank was leaning against the truck, texting. Nancy stopped in her tracks and watched him, struck, as she was every so often, by how similar he and Joe were despite their difference in coloring- their posture, their bone structure, their facial expressions, were all almost eerily alike.
"I'm sorry, I'm being rude," Frank apologized, finishing up his text.
Nancy decided that letting Frank assume her silence signified impatience was easier than explaining her actual train of thought. She simply waved away his apology and climbed into the truck.
"You don't have to stand on ceremony with me. How is Callie?" she asked.
"Busy," Frank said.
"Bess?" Nancy guessed.
Frank nodded. "And Chet. Apparently he keeps finding excuses to stop by and check on her. He thinks he's being subtle."
Nancy laughed. "That's sweet of him. Has he brought his girlfriend along yet?"
"Callie didn't say anything about it if he did," Frank said.
"I don't know why he feels the need to keep her a secret," Nancy said.
"He's Chet," Frank said. "He's insecure. Give him time. If anyone can draw him out of his shell, it's Callie."
"You must miss her," Nancy said softly.
"I do," Frank admitted; and though his voice was perfectly even, Nancy could see the depth of his emotion in the tension of his neck and jaw, in the sudden softness in his brown eyes. "Don't get me wrong. I want to be here. I just want to be there, too."
He pulled over, and Nancy realized they had reached the picnic area beside the rowboat dock. She unbuckled her seatbelt and reached for the door handle.
"Thanks for the ride," she said cheerfully, knowing that Frank would appreciate her backing down from his moment of vulnerability. "And keep an eye out for my pal Wellesley while you're wandering around up there. Don't let him try to feed you nettle soup or anything."
Frank grinned. "I think I can hold my own against an old hippie. If not, you'll know where to find me."
He drove off with a final wave, and Nancy turned her face toward the lake. The water sparkled in the sunlight, and a tantalizing little breeze blew in toward the shore, offering the hint of respite from the day's heat. But its beauty was lost on the young detective.
I'm tired of splitting up all the time, she thought suddenly. I don't know whether it's Frank throwing off the balance, or the scope of this case stretching us all, but I can't remember the last time I felt so isolated on a job.
She sighed.
You're just tired. Get it together and do the work.
Scraping together what enthusiasm she could find, she bolstered it with her sense of duty and got herself in motion. There was a low, flat rock near the lake shore, sun-warmed but shady and offering a good view of both the lake and the picnic area. Seating herself there, she settled in and prepared for an afternoon of observation.
Time passed slowly. A family unloaded their picnic from their car and gathered around one of the picnic tables, chatting, tossing a Frisbee, lighting the grill. A group of teenagers piled into a rowboat, talking and laughing, the boys playfully splashing the girls to make them shriek. A few other rowboats criss-crossed the surface of the lake. Birds called out, mosquitos hummed, and the sun beat down overhead.
Nancy found herself becoming increasingly drowsy. She got up and walked around a little to get her energy moving again. Snapped a selfie with the lake in the background to text to her father and to Hannah, to reassure them that she was alive and well. Sat down again and contemplated the sparse number of guests in her vicinity.
This is getting me nowhere, she thought, getting to her feet once more. I might as well hike back over to the dining room and see how Joe's doing.
Frank had mentioned a patio area out back of the kitchen where the staff liked to hang out on their breaks. Sure enough, when Nancy had made the trek back and circled the building, she discovered a handful of people relaxing in the shaded area. Some had gathered around a picnic table to play cards, while a few others sat on the low stone wall bordering the patio. Among these was Joe, leaning casually against the wall, smoking and talking to a man whom at first glance Nancy took to be Chris. Almost immediately, she realized her mistake. Though the resemblance was unmistakable, this man was less muscular, with tousled, greying curly hair and heavy-lidded eyes which gave him a drowsy look.
This must be the brother Vince mentioned.
The man looked up. When he turned his gaze on her she felt suddenly self-conscious, as though he could somehow see through her dyed hair and fake tattoos, could see more of herself than she was willing to give to a stranger.
"Jesse?" she called out.
Joe turned and waved her over. "Hey, I was just telling these guys how you won't let me smoke at our campsite. Everybody, meet my picky cousin, Nadia."
Playing along, Nancy made a show of not coming too close. "It's super gross," she whined. "No offense, you guys. I just don't want my hair to smell like smoke for the whole vacation."
A young man seated at the picnic table laughed. "No worries, man. You play a mean hand of Uno. You're welcome to take refuge here any time."
A second young man beckoned to Nancy with the deck of cards. "Want in on the next game?"
She made her way over to the table, allowing herself to stare as though surprised at the sheet of plywood fastened neatly over the window at the back of the building.
"What happened to the window?"
"Some dude tried to break in, apparently." The man smiled at her. "I'm Jordan, this is Alex, Shanna, and Cait. Those losers over there are Rob and Dave."
"Hi!" Nancy said, giving a little general wave. She reverted to the subject of the break-in. "That's a little scary. Did they catch the guy?"
Exactly as she had been hoping, her question triggered at least one person's innate desire to be the bearer of news. One of the women- Cait?- shook her head.
"Nope," she said, eyes wide, clearly enjoying the drama of what she had to relate. "And that's not all. It happened at, like, four different places around the property."
"I think it's bears," said Jordan, snickering.
"What would bears want with the boats?" Cait shot back.
"Definitely bears," Shanna said. She giggled. "Bears are notorious for starting fires, don't you know that? And they always carry spray paint."
Jordan held up his hands in surrender. "Okay, fine, I'm a dumbass and it wasn't bears."
"Could be ghosts," Alex said, shuffling the deck. "Poltergeists, maybe."
Cait shivered. "God. Thanks, Alex. Now I'm not gonna sleep tonight."
"It was just a regular, human, run-of-the-mill burglary attempt," Shanna said to Nancy. "Don't listen to these guys."
"Either way, something ain't right here," Jordan said. "Wait and see. Something big is gonna happen."
Alex shrugged. "Meanwhile, the paychecks are good and the job's pretty easy. Who's in for another game?"
"Not this time," Nancy said, allowing herself to sound regretful.
Amid a chorus of "next time!" and "you sure?" she rose and went to stand near Joe. Before she could speak to him, the man on Joe's other side craned his neck to make eye contact with her.
"You want to know what's really happening here?"
Her heart thumped eagerly. "What's really happening?" she asked breathlessly.
"Drones," he said.
Nancy's hopes crashed. "Drones," she repeated.
The man nodded, a quick, self-assured single jerk of the head. "Mapping," he said, as though that explained it. "Let me tell you. These fuckers want to map every inch of this planet. Every inch. They don't care who they have to go through to get it. I told 'em, I told 'em, I saw them with their fancy flying cameras, and I told 'em, private property is still private property last I checked. What can you do? They got a goddamn job to do, same as you and me."
"You saw them? The ones who tried to break in here?" Nancy asked, searching for a grain of truth in this unusual story.
"Sure. Hey, you got another cigarette? Thanks, man," he said, accepting one from the pack Joe held out.
"Bullshit, Rob," Jordan called out. "You never told us you saw the burglars."
"I told Dave. Didn't I, Dave?"
Dave shrugged and did not look up from his phone. "Dunno."
Rob looked faintly irritated. "I saw them. I called out and they ran. Guess they didn't want anyone seeing. You gotta go online and look at their maps, you don't get to know how they were made, unless you're paying attention, right? Fuckers ran like the wind."
This man is insane, Nancy thought. I have no way of knowing whether he actually saw something.
"I'd like to see them try to outrun me," Joe said.
"You could perform a citizen's arrest," Rob told him.
Joe laughed. "Yeah. Something like that." He took a final drag and leaned over to put out his cigarette in the ashtray sitting on the wall.
"Okay, I'll put you out of your misery," he said, winking at Nancy. "Let's go find you some fresh air. Thanks for letting me intrude, guys."
"Anytime, man," Alex called.
"I'm here whenever you're ready for a rematch!" Cait yelled after them, brandishing her hand of Uno cards.
They made it safely out of earshot before Joe gave vent to the frustrated fascination they were both feeling.
"Talk about an unreliable witness. What the hell was that?"
"Do you think there was any truth to any of that?" Nancy said.
"Who knows?" Joe shook his head. "You should've heard some of the wild shit he was telling me before you showed up. He says he's died three times, been sent back three times, and every time he comes back he can see more colors."
"More colors," Nancy repeated, trying to process this.
"Yeah. Whatever that means. He also had a few things to say about you not wanting me to smoke at the cabin."
Nancy raised an eyebrow, but Joe just shook his head.
"Misogynist bullshit. What it boiled down to is, you're not the boss of me and I need to put you in your place."
"Charming," Nancy said, irritated.
Joe leaned in and lowered his voice conspiratorially. "I couldn't exactly tell him that I like it when you're the boss of me, could I?"
"Not with that much innuendo in your tone, Cousin Jesse," Nancy said.
The face he made in response made her giggle.
. . . . .
Frank was already there when they arrived at the stable. He stepped forward to meet them.
"Hi," he said. "She's not here yet."
"Figures." Joe brushed past his brother to say hello to R.C., who had stuck his face out inquisitively into the aisle.
"You Ms. Bender's party?" Melanie called, appearing at the head of the aisle.
"Yes," Joe said.
Melanie looked him up and down, seeming unimpressed with his tough-guy facade. "Horses are ready whenever you are," she said, and retreated.
Nancy checked her watch. Four-oh-two. She had a feeling it might be a while before Vanessa appeared.
Might as well put the time to good use.
"Which ones are we riding?" she asked, trotting after Melanie.
"Well," Melanie said, "these guys are the senior citizens' brigade. Vanessa doesn't ride much and always asks me for the calmest horse we've got, so she can have Matilda," she explained, pointing to a chestnut mare which had already fallen asleep fully tacked up. "The rest of you can take your pick. That's Star, Billy, and Dusty."
"I want Star," Nancy declared. "That was the name of my first lesson pony!"
She reached out her hand to the horse and was rewarded with a comment from Melanie.
"Huh. Are those rings back in style?" she asked.
Nancy had been hoping for a more personal reaction. "Isn't it, like, so retro?" she said, wiggling her fingers to showcase the jewelry. "Did you ever have one? Is it super weird to see trends come back? Ooh, do you still have all your stuff from back then? Or do you not like to remember that time? Because of the girls," she concluded, lowering her voice to a reverent hush.
"It is what it is," Melanie said with a shrug. She bent to check the girth on one of the geldings. "These guys are good to go. Just tell your cousins not to push them too hard. No daredevil stuff, okay?"
"They would never," Nancy said indignantly.
Melanie straightened up, absently patting the closest horse. "If you say so. Chris or I should be around when you get back."
She walked off, and Nancy could not think of a single excuse to call her back.
"Damn," she whispered, stroking Star's nose. "Is she avoiding talking about those things, or is she genuinely busy? Either way, I haven't learned anything."
Nancy was not surprised when a quarter of an hour passed with no sign of Vanessa. Joe paced, patting the horses, singing under his breath, checking his watch; Frank stood, stolid and watchful; and Nancy took a few minutes to catch up on the group text thread she had been neglecting.
Finally, Vanessa breezed in, swaying down the barn aisle as though it were a runway. She was on her phone, and when she reached them she held up one finger in the universal gesture for "hang on, let me finish."
Seriously? Nancy thought.
"No, Mom, I promise everything's okay," Vanessa said, and Nancy's resentment softened. Whatever else Vanessa might be, she was a good daughter.
I can't fault her for talking to her mother.
"Yes, will do. Love you too. Bye." Vanessa lowered her phone, and in the same breath went on "I'm so sorry, guys, my appointment ran late. Thank you for waiting for me!"
"We nearly left," Joe said bluntly.
"Joe," Frank said.
"You wouldn't!" Vanessa let her blonde hair cascade out of its ponytail before re-securing it at the nape of her neck and reaching for a riding helmet. "Okay. Which one of you cowboys is going to give me a boost?"
Nancy's resentment bloomed again. She turned away and swung efficiently, pointedly, into her own saddle.
"Let's get this show on the road!" she called.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
-Author's Note-
Fun Fact: Nancy actually does ride a horse named Star in "The Ringmaster's Secret," which in my opinion strains believability a little more than the average Nancy Drew mystery. She learns all kinds of hilariously improbable circus stunts. Go read it.
Fun Fact 2: You are all smart and wonderful people whom I have not thanked enough recently. Some of your guesses in the reviews are spot on! And DougJudy, since you're signed on as a guest I can't message you directly, but I've always wanted to say that I love your username.