J.M.J.

Chapter 1

It was a few minutes before one in the afternoon on a Tuesday when Nancy Drew pulled her car into the parking lot of her father's office building. Carson Drew was sitting in the passenger seat, anxiously but silently watching the clock in Nancy's dashboard. The father and daughter tried to meet for lunch at least one a week, and they had been doing so more often lately since their housekeeper, Hannah Gruen, had been away helping her sister who had just had knee replacement surgery. Carson, Nancy, and Hannah were the only members of the family, and Nancy didn't like eating lunch alone, so she had been meeting with her father or inviting friends over or being invited by friends almost every day. Carson only allowed himself an hour lunch from noon to one, and so they always tried to be back at his office by one. Today, some unusually heavy traffic had held them up.

"I don't normally schedule any afternoon appointments until one-thirty to make sure I have time to get back to the office if I leave," Carson commented as Nancy parked the car, "but this guy who called yesterday was so insistent that he needed to talk to me as soon as possible that I decided to work him in at one. Figures I'd be running late today."

"Sorry about that," twenty-two-year-old Nancy said, although it wasn't something either of them could have helped. "This isn't one of your regular clients, is it?"

"No, he's from out of state, but he has some business dealings here and apparently suddenly found himself in need of a lawyer." Carson shook his head. "I'm a little surprised…Oh, well. I'd better get in there. He'll be here any minute."

"I'll see you this evening, Dad," Nancy told him. "I've got something extra special planned for supper."

Carson gave her a grin that signaled he was about to make some teasing remark, but he was cut off by a loud popping sound—one that they both knew all too well. A man approaching the office building had happened to be in Nancy's line of sight, and as soon as the gunshot sounded, he jerked back from the shock of being hit and fell to the ground.

"Dad!" Nancy said, pointing to the man.

Carson looked around, toward the tops of the buildings, but he didn't see anything. "Stay right here, Nancy," he commanded her before dashing across the parking lot toward the man who had been hit.

"Dad!" Nancy called again, even more alarmed this time as she watched her father dart around the cars, expecting more shots any moment.

There weren't any, and Nancy saw her father pull the victim to relative cover behind one of the parked cars. Recovering from her surprise, she pulled out her phone and called 911. Once she had placed the call and described what had happened, she waited a second or two longer, but there weren't any more shots. Deciding that the sniper must have gotten away, she jumped out of the car and ran to see her dad.

She found him bending over the other man, attempting to staunch the other's bleeding with his jacket which he had torn off. Nancy spared a glance for the shooting victim. He was blonde and probably in his late thirties, and although his pale face almost looked familiar, Nancy couldn't place him.

"Are you all right, Dad?" she asked quickly.

"Nancy, what are you doing?" Carson asked in alarm, not having realized she was there until she spoke. "That shooter could still be out there."

"I don't think he is," Nancy replied. She crouched next to the victim. "Is he all right?"

"I don't know," Carson said grimly.

Clearly, the man was still alive. He was groaning and trying to say something.

"It's all right," Nancy told him. "Just hold on. I called for help." The last part was addressed as much to Carson as the victim.

The man didn't seem to listen to Nancy's assurances. He reached for Carson's arm and caught hold of his shirt sleeve. "D-Drew?" he managed to ask.

"Yes, it's Carson Drew," Carson told him. "Do you know who shot you?"

"My…son," the man said incoherently.

"Your son?" Carson repeated in surprise.

Even in his dazed state, the victim must have realized what he had implied. "No…no," he insisted. "Find my son…in danger…"

"Where is your son at?" Carson asked.

The man tried to answer, but it was so indistinct that neither Carson nor Nancy could make it out. He drifted out of consciousness after that. Carson and Nancy tried to wake him again, but they couldn't before the paramedics and police arrived a few minutes later.

As the Drews were ushered back to give the paramedics room to work, Nancy turned a questioning glance on her father. "Do you know him? He seemed to know who you are."

"We don't know each other personally," Carson replied. "That is the client I was supposed to be meeting just now. He wasn't exaggerating about being in trouble."

"Don't you have any idea what kind of trouble it is?"

"No."

They hadn't any more time to discuss it before an officer called them aside to ask them questions. The Drews were well-known to all of the River Heights Police Department. Carson's work as a lawyer often caused him to cross paths with them, although most of the acquaintanceship came from Nancy's work as an amateur detective. She had earned herself a good reputation with the local police and so they respected her ideas and theories.

They each described the shooting as they had seen it, including the victim's request that they look for his son who was apparently in danger.

"Do you know him?" the officer asked.

"I know who he is," Carson replied. "He had an appointment to meet with me at one today, although I'd never met him before in person. His name is Tom Swift."

"Tom Swift?" Nancy asked in surprise. "The owner of Swift Enterprises?"

"That's right."

"But…" Nancy shook her head in confusion. "I thought he had died. And that he was much older."

"You're probably thinking of his father," Carson told her. "This is Tom Swift IV. I didn't realize there was another one. He certainly doesn't make as many headlines as his father or grandfather did."

"He'll make headlines now," the officer commented. "What was he coming to see you about?"

"I'm not sure," Carson admitted. "He called yesterday and said that he needed to speak to a lawyer as soon as possible. He said something about a potential lawsuit, but he didn't want to give any details over the phone."

"That's weird," the officer said. "You'd think a rich guy like Swift would have a whole army of lawyers to call in if anyone tried to sue him."

"It is strange," Carson agreed, although if he had any more thoughts on the matter, he didn't say what they were just now.

There were no other details that Carson was able to give at the moment. Nancy, of course, knew even less about the incident, and so she only listened and thought. She didn't know very much about the Swift family, other than that some of the earlier Swifts had had some remarkable adventures while inventing various impressive technologies. Of course, all that was years ago, in the early to mid-1900s. She remembered hearing that one of the later members of the family had died tragically rather young and she hadn't realized that he had even had any children.

When the police were satisfied with the Drews' statements, Nancy followed her father up to his office. Carson had another appointment later that afternoon which he asked his assistant to cancel while he and Nancy started to do some research on the Swifts. It didn't take long for Nancy to sort out the information that she had and make sense of it all.

The first Tom Swift had lived in the early 1900s and had made a name for himself with his inventions for traveling, including improvements on dirigibles which were more impressive than practical for a large scale. He had been an inventor of the tinkerer-type, not particularly interested in the marketing potential of his work but rather attracted to the challenge of it. Even so, he had done well for himself and had paved the way for his son to found Swift Enterprises. Tom Swift Jr. had been fascinated by space travel and had worked with NASA during the Space Race, which had really helped the Swifts to become wealthy and almost celebrities.

His son, Tom Swift III, had carried on the same sort of work as his father and grandfather, being more interested in inventing than relationships. He had married late in life and only had one child, Tom Swift IV, but he had tragically died in an accident when his son was only four. That had put the future of Swift Enterprises in rocky footing, although Tom Swift Jr. had still been alive at the time and managed the company until his death, when Tom Swift IV had only just come of age and was able to take over ownership of the company.

Tom Swift IV was a private sort of fellow, rarely giving interviews and letting his company's officers have a lot of say in business decisions. Apparently, he had neither the technological nor the business genius of his recent ancestors. He had married about the time he had inherited the company and had a son, also named Tom. He and his wife were divorced shortly thereafter, with almost no details of his personal life since then available. Most people, apparently, had lost interest in the Swift dynasty by this time.

"Swift's son would be fifteen now," Carson said. "I'll check the court records to see how custody was worked out. Maybe the boy is just with his mother."

"Maybe," Nancy replied absently, still looking through her search results. "I can't find anywhere that Swift Enterprises has a business presence in this state, except for one plant which they just opened in Paradise Valley."

"Where's that?"

"It's a little town about a hundred miles from here, on Highway 24," Nancy explained. "It doesn't look like there's much there. The population is about a thousand people and most of them are farmers or work in something agriculture-related. The exception is this plant which Swift Enterprises opened about nine months ago."

"A manufacturing plant?" Carson asked.

"It looks like it," Nancy confirmed. "It also looks like it has a research and development division. Do you think that whatever Mr. Swift wanted to talk to you about was related to this?"

"Most likely," Carson said. "And most likely the reason he was shot was related to all of this, too. I'll relay this information to the police. I think our focus needs to be on finding Swift's son."

Nancy nodded. "It's a bit confusing that practically everyone in their family is named Tom, though."

Carson grinned. "Just a little bit. I'll make a few phone calls about the older Tom's ex-wife and then why don't we head home? It's been quite the afternoon."

Nancy agreed with that. After the rush of excitement during the shooting, she was beginning to feel tired, especially since she was running out of things to do to work on the case. As it turned out, it wasn't a case where Carson could quickly and easily find out about the details of the divorce. He had to put in a request and then wait. Once that was done, he and Nancy went home.

It was much later now than Nancy had intended to get home, and so that didn't quite fit in with her plans for supper. Instead she had to find something that she could make much more quickly, and so she began flipping through Hannah's recipe box. Hannah liked writing favorite recipes down by hand and putting them in the box, and so Nancy knew she could always find something that would do in there. The biggest problem was usually narrowing it down to just one recipe.

While she was going through the box, the front door opened and someone came in. There were very few people who just came into the Drews' house without bothering to knock, and so Nancy wasn't surprised when she hurried into the front room and found her closest friends, Bess Marvin and George Fayne, there.

"Hey," the two girls greeted her, before George immediately asked, "Did you hear that someone got shot right outside your dad's office today?"

"Well, no," Nancy replied. "I didn't exactly hear it. I was there when it happened."

"Seriously?" Bess rushed forward and put a hand on each of Nancy's shoulders. "Are you all right?"

"Of course I am. They weren't shooting at me."

"They wouldn't be the first people to shoot at you if they had been," Bess replied darkly.

"What happened?" George asked. "Was it someone you know? Is he all right? We didn't even hear whether he'd been killed or not."

"He wasn't killed," Nancy said. "Although he was hurt pretty badly. We haven't heard any updates on how he is." She explained about who the victim was and the mystery surrounding the shooting.

"So what are you doing now?" Bess asked.

"Right when you came in, I was trying to decide what to have for supper," Nancy replied.

George raised an eyebrow at her. "You just watched a guy get shot and had a mystery handed to you, and you're worried about what you're making for supper?"

Nancy laughed. "I'm not worried about it. We need to eat, though."

George shook her head. "I don't know, Nancy."

"About what?" Nancy was headed back to the kitchen. She still had a teasing lilt to her voice, but she was starting to think that George might not be teasing in return.

However, George just shrugged. "Oh, never mind. It's not that important, I guess. Do you have any ideas for solving the mystery?"

"It depends on what we learn about the youngest Tom Swift," Nancy replied. "His dad thinks he's in danger, so making sure he's not in danger is the first priority. His dad also said to find him, which could mean he's missing and that could be what he was so worried about. On the other hand, he might just be with his mom or someone else responsible. Once we find that out, we'll decide what to do next."

"What if he's safe?" Bess asked. "What's the next priority in the case?"

"Finding out who the sniper was," Nancy replied. "It's possible that Swift knows who it is and will be able to tell the police once he wakes up. Even if he doesn't know, he should be able to give some idea what's going on."

"And if he doesn't wake up?" George asked.

"That's an awful thought," Bess reproached her.

"Admitting that it's a possibility doesn't mean that it's going to happen," George replied. "We've got to be realistic here. The guy was shot. He could be pretty seriously hurt. Even if he survives, he could be in a coma for a long time. Long enough for the sniper to get away."

"Or try again," Nancy pointed out. "If we don't learn anything in the next day, I think I'll go to Paradise Valley and see what I can find out there."