J.M.J.

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Chapter 2

The next morning found Nancy, Bess, and George on the road to Paradise Valley. Carson's inquiries into the situation had yielded more concerning results than informative ones. To begin with, the older Tom Swift hadn't regained consciousness. So far, there had been no luck in finding where he was staying, either in River Heights or anywhere else in the area. Since he lived in California, he had to bestaying somewhere. The police did find out that Swift hadn't been on any private flights into River Heights. Checking commercial flights and private flights at other airports would take a little longer. They still had found few details of his private life, but there were no business deals that immediately stood out as being potential motives to murder him. There weren't even any lawsuits pending against him or Swift Enterprises. As for the more pressing matter of Swift's son's whereabouts, no one had been able to learn anything. It turned out that Swift had sole custody of his son and his ex-wife claimed, with considerable bitterness, that he scarcely even let her talk to the boy so she had no idea where he might be. Apparently, Swift homeschooled his son, so there was no school keeping track of his whereabouts, and he had no house-staff who could shed any light on the matter either. It was uncannily as if the boy had completely vanished.

The Paradise Valley police had, of course, been contacted and said that they would investigate to see whether they could find out about any trouble or if Swift had been there recently. Nancy thought that it was the best lead they had and she was eager to do something to investigate. Carson had been a little more wary. Whatever was going on, someone was willing to kill over it. It would hardly be wise to barge in without having some idea what they were in for. Nancy, however, persuaded him that it was best if she went. She could do her investigating without letting anyone know her real name, as they could take either Bess or George's car and one of the other girls could check into the hotel. Nancy would make sure to keep her investigation as low-key as possible, and so chances were that whoever Swift's enemies were, they wouldn't even realize she was in town.

"What should we do first?" Bess asked as they rolled into the small town.

George glanced around her. "Well, if we're planning on turning the town inside out to look for that kid, it should take all of about fifteen minutes."

The other girls laughed. It was an exaggeration, but not as much of one as it might be. Paradise Valley had about a dozen streets going each direction and most of them were residential. Grain elevators rose up on the north end of town. They were the only buildings that were more than three stories high. The business district was two streets leading through the heart of the town. Then there was a large building on the west side of town, which was visible from the highway. This had to be the Swift Enterprises plant. Even with its small size, the town didn't look at all rundown. The people who lived here were apparently glad to do so and they kept their homes and businesses in order.

"First, we'd better see if we can get a room at the hotel," Nancy said. She chewed her lip. "A town this small isn't going to have many people visiting and we might raise a few eyebrows. We'd better have a cover story. We could say that we're having some trouble with the car."

"Then we'd probably have some friendly mechanic offering to take a look at it, and when he sees there's nothing wrong with it, then we'll really raise some eyebrows," George pointed out.

"True," Nancy conceded. She frowned contemplatively. "Okay. How about this? We try to avoid telling anyone anything. If we can't avoid it, then we admit that we're here to look for someone, but we'll say it's a friend of ours from high school that we haven't heard from in ages and we're trying to surprise her. We were told that she lives somewhere in town. Everyone will tell us she doesn't live here, but we can keep poking around, claiming that we're trying to figure out where our bad information came from."

"It sounds a little far-fetched to me," Bess said, "but from the looks of this town, saying we're here to sightsee would be just as far-fetched. What's our friend's name?"

"It doesn't really matter, as long as we can all remember it," Nancy replied.

"Then let's use a real classmate, so we do remember," George suggested. "How about Brooke Long? I definitely haven't heard from her since graduation."

Bess wrinkled her nose. "Thank goodness for that."

"Can you think of any classmates who would be more surprised if we drove a hundred miles to come and see them?" George asked, grinning.

"Well, no," Bess agreed. "I definitely can't."

"I should have mentioned that it should be a name we can remember and can say with a straight face," Nancy said, trying to hide a grin of her own. Brooke hadn't exactly been one of the girls' close friends in school.

"Brooke will do just fine," George said. "Bess had better check into the hotel. Her name is going to throw up the least red flags."

"You just don't want to use your real name," Bess teased her.

"Legal name," George corrected her. "And honestly, can you blame me?"

Bess grinned teasingly. "But it's such a sophisticated name."

"Yeah, that makes me sound like I'm about a hundred years old," George grumbled.

"Oh, it's not that bad," Bess insisted. "It only makes you sound like you're about ninety."

"Thanks," George retorted.

They had reached the hotel by this time. Apparently, there was only one in Paradise Valley, and it didn't look like it saw much business. There was no one stationed at the desk, and when they had rung the bell to summon someone, the middle-aged man who appeared gawked in confusion at the girls, especially after Bess told him that they would like to get a room for that night.

"Or, if your rates are low enough, we'll take two rooms," Bess added. "There are two beds in each room, right?"

"No…Well, some rooms," the man stammered. "But you don't want to stay here."

"Don't you have vacancy?" Bess asked.

"Yeah, sure, we do," the man said. "It's just that this isn't a very nice hotel at all. There's a much better one about fifteen miles up the highway. They've got a Best Western in Frasier. Their rates are very reasonable, and you'll be much more comfortable there."

"Oh, but we don't want to stay at a Best Western," Bess insisted. "This hotel will be just fine. We need to stay in Paradise Valley, you see."

"But why?" the man continued protesting. "This is such a boring, little town. There's nothing to see at all. If you girls are looking for something to do, Frasier is much better. They at least have a theater and some great restaurants."

Bess glanced at Nancy, who gave a small and reluctant nod. Then she turned to the man again. "Well, you see, we're trying to find an old classmate of ours. Someone told us that she lives in Paradise Valley now. We're going to surprise her. But we don't know exactly where she lives, so we want plenty of time to look around for her."

"Oh, if that's all, I'm sure I can help you find her," the man replied. "If you haven't noticed, Paradise Valley is a very small town. I know everyone here. What's your friend's name?"

"Brooke Long?" Bess said questioningly, although her heart was sinking.

"Brooke Long…" The man shook his head. "I don't know anyone named that around here. I was thinking you might have been misinformed about your friend. Not too many people move to Paradise Valley, especially not young people. A lot more of them move out."

"Maybe she's gotten married," Bess suggested. "We haven't talked to her since high school. She could have a different last name."

"That could be," the man agreed, "but I can still say definitely that she doesn't live here. I don't think there's a single Brooke in all of Paradise Valley, let alone one who's moved here in the last few years."

"She might have married someone who moved away with her," Nancy jumped in. "Even if they don't live here now, there's got to be some connection."

"I can't think of anyone from around here who's married a girl named Brooke," the man insisted. "In a town this small, it's not too hard to keep track of things like that."

"I'm sure not," Nancy conceded, "but it's still possible to make a mistake. Even if it's us who have made a mistake, we want to find out for ourselves how it was made. No offence, but you can't possibly know all the relatives of everyone in town. You might just not have heard about it."

"No, I'm sure I'm right," the man said. "There's another town named Paradise up in the north part of the state. That's probably where your friend is at. Sometimes, people get the two confused. I'm sure that's what must have happened."

"And I'm sure it's not," Nancy insisted. "I know Paradise. I wouldn't have gotten them confused."

"Some mistake had to be made. You'd just be wasting your time and money to be staying here. I'm sure no one here even knows this Brooke Long."

"I don't see how you could possibly know that," Nancy replied. "We want to find out for ourselves. Why can't we just have a room?"

"I don't want to see you waste your time and money."

"If we do, that's our own problem," Nancy said. "And really, if we have to go all the way to Frasier and get a room at the hotel there which will be more expensive, no doubt, we'll end up wasting even more time and money."

"Well, then, maybe it would be better if you just gave up on the whole idea," the man replied.

"We can't do that," Nancy told him. "It's very important that we find our friend. We were told she was somewhere in this town, and we want to make sure for ourselves whether she's here or not before we just give up."

"Go and search, then, if you're bound and determined," the man said. "You won't need a hotel, though. Everyone you talk to will tell you the same as me."

Nancy sighed in annoyance. "All right, but we'll be back later if we're still in town."

The girls left the hotel and went back to Bess's car. George chuckled as she closed her door.

"And we were worried about people thinking we were acting suspiciously!" she commented.

"I think that was the first time I had to argue for a business to let me do business there and lost," Bess agreed.

"So there's been an attempted murder, a missing teenager, and now a hotel that doesn't want guests." Nancy shook her head. "There's definitely something really weird going on around here. We're going to have to be extra careful making our inquiries. Maybe we'd better go and talk to the police and see if they can tell us anything."

It wasn't hard to find the office of the Paradise Valley Police Department. It was just one small building with a well-polished black and white patrol car in front. Something about it gave Nancy and her friends the impression that it wasn't driven often. Inside the station, an officer with graying hair and a nametag that read Meyers met them at the desk and asked them how he could help them. Nancy explained who they were and what their business was. The officer's eyebrows narrowed slightly.

"There wasn't any need for you to come," he said. "Our police force might be small, but we're more than capable of conducting our own investigations without the help of amateur detectives. In fact, I don't know about the River Heights police, but we actively discourage meddling from people who aren't trained for this sort of thing."

Nancy was taken aback by his blunt rudeness, but she managed to say calmly, "I'm sorry. Mr. Swift specifically asked my father and me to try to locate his son, so I feel that I have an obligation to look for him. I had no intention of implying that I didn't think the police here were capable."

"Well, you would have saved yourself a lot of time if you'd just called," Meyers grumbled. "We've already checked into it. Swift hasn't been in Paradise Valley since he opened the plant here nine months ago. As far as we can tell, his son has never been here. You'd better look for him somewhere else."

"If it's all the same to you, I'd like to do a little more checking around here in town before we leave," Nancy said.

"It's not all the same to me," Meyers said. "I don't want you interfering with our investigation. If you really are concerned about that kid, you should start looking somewhere he might actually be."

"Maybe so, but I want to be as sure as I can be," Nancy insisted. "Could I talk to your chief of police?"

"Are you trying to go over my head, kid?" Meyers folded his arms.

"I'm just trying to get all this straightened out," Nancy replied. "There's a lot going on that isn't adding up, and it might be better to talk to your chief about it."

"You can't. He's out sick today."

"He's out sick when something like this is going on?" Nancy asked, finding that answer too suspicious to believe.

"Yes. He happens to have a very nasty flu. However, he has every confidence in our department's ability to investigate this."

"I'm sure," Nancy replied. "Well, thank you very much."

As they exited the police station into the sunlight, they were all silent for a few seconds until they were sure no one could overhear them talking.

"This certainly isn't a very welcoming town, is it?" George commented.

Bess looked around at all the picture-perfect buildings around them and shivered. "This town is starting to give me the creeps. Something about it feels fake."

Nancy also glanced around, noting that there wasn't a single person in sight. There were a few cars parked along the street, all just a little too clean and parked just a little too well. "It feels very fake, like someone's trying to make it look like a town but it's not really."

"You know," George said, "I read a post on a social media site one time where someone claimed that they'd accidentally stumbled into a fake town that the CIA had set up for training or who knows what. It was just like this. They couldn't stay at the hotel, nobody was helpful or friendly, everyone just wanted them to move along as fast as possible. When I read it, I assumed that it was just someone making up stories, but do you think maybe the CIA really does do things like that and this is one of the fake towns?"

"I don't know," Nancy replied. "That sounds pretty far-fetched. Although, to be honest, I would possibly be willing to buy it, except that if this was a fake town, then why would they let Swift Enterprises open a plant here?"

"Maybe Swift is working for the government," George suggested, growing more excited as pieces started falling into place. "Didn't his grandpa work with NASA? Maybe this Swift is working with the CIA somehow. He could be developing some kind of spy tech. That would explain why he's so secretive about his personal life and why he homeschools his kid and why someone would want to kill him."

"That could be," Nancy conceded, "but I'm going to need more evidence before I believe all of that. I wish we could get a look at that plant. Even if the government's not involved, I'm sure their security is pretty tight."

"Well, then, what do we do?" George asked. "Go back into the police station and ask Meyers if he works for the CIA?"

Nancy grinned. "If he'd answer at all, he'd just tell us no either way. Let's walk over to the plant and see what we can see. Maybe we'll be surprised."

"Why do we have to walk?" Bess asked.

"Because it will be a lot easier to sneak up close on foot if we need to," Nancy explained. "Come on."

They started walking, looking around as they went. They didn't see a single other person, but they all had the eerie feeling that they were being watched. Nancy tried to calm her friends by telling them that it was probably only their imaginations playing tricks, but she wasn't convinced herself. In fact, she was so unconvinced that when they drew close to the plant, she suggested that they get off the sidewalk and approach it through the trees that made a covering on the west side of the campus.

They stayed under the cover of the trees for long while, watching the plant. This, at last, looked like it was real. There was smoke rising from the various chimneys and the sounds of machinery operating inside. The girls even occasionally caught a glimpse of a person.

"We can't really sneak up and see what's going on, can we?" George said, noting the tall fences around the plant.

"No," Nancy agreed. She didn't think that they were likely to learn anything by staying here and watching. At the same time, she was convinced that there were answers inside that plant. She just had to find a way to get inside. Finally, she made up her mind that there was only one thing to do. She took her phone out of her pocket and glanced at it. "I'm going to go call Dad and tell him what we've got so far. He might be able to dig up some information about this town. I'd like you two to stay here and keep watch. I'm sure that the attempt on Swift's life had to do with this place."

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" Bess protested. "Why can't you call from here?"

"There's no cell reception here," Nancy explained. "I'm just going to go far enough to get a call out."

She glanced around furtively to make sure no one was in sight, and then she darted down the street. Even though she was out in the open and in town, there weren't any bars of reception. Nancy frowned at it, wondering uneasily if something was wrong with her phone. She had a feeling that wasn't the problem, though.

"You're still in town?" The unfriendly voice made Nancy look up. Officer Meyers was stalking toward her. "Where are your friends?"

"We split up for a few minutes," Nancy replied. "I was trying to find cell reception."

"There isn't any in this town," Meyers told her. "If you need to make a phone call, you'll have to get out of town."

"Why?" Nancy asked. She nodded toward a tall structure at the end of town. "Isn't that a cell tower?"

"No, it's not. There just aren't enough people in town for them to bother giving us a tower, and we're out of range for any of the others in the area."

Nancy frowned more deeply again. "This is kind of an emergency. Could I use the phone in the police station?"

"That's for official use only," Meyers insisted. "Just go and find your friends and drive a mile or two up the road. You'll find reception."

Nancy took in a deep breath. "Okay. Sorry to have bothered you."

She started walking toward the police station, where Bess's car was still parked. All her senses were on high alert, trying to decide whether Meyers was following her or not. She could sense his eyes planted on her as she walked, but when she turned a corner, she saw that he hadn't moved. That meant he wasn't at the station, and if there was another officer there, they might be more helpful. Nancy broke into a jog and reached the station a few minutes later.

She had nearly reached the station when she saw someone getting out of Bess's car. He was a tall African-American man in a police uniform. When he spotted Nancy jogging toward him, he started guiltily.

"What are you doing?" Nancy demanded from him, noting that his nametag read Thompson.

"Nothing," the officer quickly asserted. "I was just trying to see whose car this is. It's, er, illegally parked."

Nancy narrowed her eyes. "No, it isn't."

"It's too far away from the curb," Thompson insisted. "I measured it."

"That's ridiculous," Nancy replied, although she glanced at the curb. It certainly didn't look too far to her. "Even if it was true, that doesn't give you any right to look inside it."

"You're probably right," Thompson conceded. "If you'll just go on your way right now, I'll forget all about the ticket."

Nancy was about to protest further when she saw a movement in the back seat of the car. "What…?" she started to ask as she stepped forward and reached for the door.

Thompson suddenly grabbed her arm in a tight grip. "Look, I'm taking a big chance here, but…"

He was cut off by Meyers loudly saying, "What's going on here, Thompson? Is she giving you any trouble?"

Thompson didn't break the eye contact he had made with Nancy. "I'm begging you, if there's any decency in you, please kick me in the shin, jump in your car, and get out of this town."

"What?" Nancy stared at him in confusion.

"Please!" Thompson insisted.

Nancy only hesitated a half-second longer. Then she kicked the man in the shin. He did a convincing job of acting like he wasn't expecting it, shouting in feigned pain and letting go of her arm. Nancy tried to pull the car door open, but her hesitation had been just a half-second too long. Meyers ran up to them and grabbed Nancy by the shoulder. He pulled her roughly away from the door, and Nancy lost her balance. She smacked her head into the corner of the car door and had the sensation of falling to the ground, although she never remembered hitting it.